Upon a Star
A work that embodies light may lead us to
examine the source of our own. As we regard
the night, we are bathed; shone upon. For
piercing the black expanse is the dim and
brilliant din—the stark humor of hope.
A work that is pure code is as obvious and
enigmatic as the impulse whence it came . . .
a stance . . . a bright hitch. Connections are
internalized and may have little to do with a
name or a face. Perhaps indecipherable, yet
one may trace, and be, even momentarily,
carried away.
Into a singular yellow plane. A measured
frame. A series of breathless stills taped to
a blank wall. Falconetti. A vase. A vat of
pigment, kohl, pearl on a polished floor.
The source of our being smiles. The work of
man endures. Even as a turn of the head, in a
certain light, fades into dawn.
— Patti Smith
Upon a Star