Quimper
paintings by E. Mayan
We are the vulnerable pedestrians walking among the stars, one misstep, and down you go. It is encompassing danger; if it doesn't arrive, it will prevail nevertheless; expect it. A thing, a thing, by any name? It is academic; there are no names, names, names; what's in a name? Truth's subterfuge? A pose, yes, onto itself, given out of whole cloth, impermanent. We are poor actors, cast cruelly on the fastidiousness of social choice; to speak or to remain silent. The script; the mountebank's repertory: "We talk, dear Caesar, with mouths closed, voices on the wind! Tiddly things, mere points of departure, gestures beside action, the waving articulate, seeking, seeking..."
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Quimper
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