The image is from a lovely article on the making of a new mosaic by Aidan Hart.
The alphabets we use are all broken, but you and I don't need them whole. Tesserae from our respective shard-hordes, rough against fingertips that fit them into place, speak for us, to each other, in a mosaic of un- voiced vowels: silent, layered, reflecting glints of light.
3 comments:
Nice to be able to post a comment on a matter of considerable substance. Thus: Freaking brilliant.
So wonderful. This is what Eliot was trying to say with that "fragments shored against my ruins" business, but he botched it. This is perfect.
Yep! I concur heartily with your well-wrought sentiments, Lori!
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