Her Art

Her mind accumulates the mechanics of metaphysics. Pieces of something she is sculpting or assembling - word-pictures too intricate to be entirely recalled upon a whole canvas. She discovers these figments on the leeched rim of vision, where shapes are nameless. Part of her mind burns with the light of a kerosene lamp, the other blazes as bright as a solar flare. She has been building images, that can only be truly perceived just once, then after that, they are just her writings.