imaginable

The world of the artist is one intricately constructed by threads of tantalizingly close-to-tangible dreams, teased by ever elusive and unrealized potential. Anything is imaginable, nay, conceivable, and yet somehow, nothing is ever perfectly realized. Always there are hints of flawless perfection, dancing in the peripherals of the mind, but quickly and gently they flit away under undue attention. Very seldom do these creatures of the wing fall to the seduction of gentle hands of a true master, to be carefully pinned down and lifted up in their now empty glory. We gather to view in hushed silence, the cold and flawless absence and marvel at our brush with the truly divine.