The Red Disk Joan Miro 1960

consider the art of the tendril or the thread or the power of a hook or a stitch each entanglement deliberate yet unplanned I don't know where it takes us but here we are there is no sense looking at a constellation expecting a mirror, but I do ~ so help me maybe I'm reflected in a single speck or there is a way of viewing the composite to make sense of it all... there is a chance and I acknowledge it that I'm looking into a void where nothing is connected nor has purpose let alone to the bystander perhaps we leave a mark here or there where it once made sense that later sheds no light it's definitely not nothing though that disk obscures it is that where the answers lie scratch the surface look beneath your nails swing on the outer edges where you can hang on no one seems to know if we step forward or step back for understanding I'm wondering now whether the answers just bleed from the blanket of blue that I mistook for black thinking it the canvas but it's the beginning and everything else merely a distraction