Really, I'd prefer that you didn't know too much. It's all superfluous really. An artist should leave behind but his/her works and the intentions behind them. Should my works manage to survive the test of time as the epitome (or one of the lesser, but still notable, epitomes) of how something can be said, I would hope that readers' eyes would never come to look upon this page for understanding. If they did, if they have, I have failed (you, myself, my muse), and I am sorry. If I seem to contradict myself, well, then I contradict myself, but there's always purpose behind it: something that needs saying, something that needed, at one time, to be heard, if, by no-one else, than by myself. Come, cheer along. Sing, in chorus, a eulogy I've written for my funeral; the afterwards is dedicated to you. Best to you, ---Ink--- ink@inksblot.com |