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Description
A circle has no corner where the story would stop.
The wax flows toward the center and toward the edge. The butterfly doesn’t have to be drawn in its entirety; a flutter, dust on a wing, the spot where the light refracts—that’s enough. An iron leaves a mark that a brush cannot.
From a distance, a quiet disc on the wall.
Up close, baked-on wax, a drop, the edge of the canvas—with or without a frame, depending on how it hangs—in the bedroom and hallway. A round canvas wants a free-standing wall, not the tight rectangle of a closet.
Original