The Scriptorium


700 A.D

Within the scriptorium, I trace the intricacy of the ineffable.  Authoring is the ascetic practice of embellishment.  Madness and concentration compound themselves into one slight manuscript.  I create my own addendum and idle in the open margins.  I have broken these knots of consciousness into equations.  My task is to elucidate the mathematical construct of belief.  A square is unity.  The way the land divides into fields echoes the construct of my designs.  I write it down, I synthesize its passages.  Still, my human hands are imperfect.  This medium forces me to distort figures, to renege on whatever realism they are born from.  Only a translator, I interpret the great scribe’s work.  He has mapped and guided my design, woven the grid that guides me.