Best to keep the first page blank, keep it full of silence and light. Let strips of colour land and reflect. Perhaps some passing beauty or accidental truth will unfold without my clumsy interference. A wonder - a small, undiluted wonder - unworthy of words, will grow out of nothing. If that's your bag. I like the idea very much. It's a wonder that I've spent so much time covering perfectly formed pages with black or blue scrawl. A spider's web to a fly quite content with flight and not in the least need of a seat. Such a bitter little spider with some nerve, don't you think? Still, those webs are so geometrically spectacular that you have to curse those for whom the spider himself is nothing but a wee snack. But I should not digress into the food chain when there are so many other chains to unravel. Like the one that drags the pen forward. Another small wonder, another web, another cryptic trap. Another little golden leaf falls down from the sky. Look up but there's no tree. Another small wonder worthy of not investigating further, in case it's all explained away. Leave the enigmas to be enigmas, so precious and liable to disappear at the first hint of touch. The futility of grasping at them should always be remembered, at least after logic wakes up. We will disappear under the weight of equations with their bastard complex numbers. And any moment now... there are many waiting, and I am waiting to disappear, and while I wait I wonder blankly and wait to be overawed.
2002
