-  Fiction - The Emotive Consideration









In Memory
Sean Pettibone



The Emotive Consideration

Resigning themselves to a resumption of their subservient state without contortions, the mysterious formations and shapes returned compliantly to the canvas and slowly retreated into its thin paper borders. Inexorably flattening while gradually retracting any trailing extrusions. The convergence of its distinct elements restored the composition's culmative arrangements. Its inconclusive arrangement of deflated shapes quietly descended into an unexpectedly muted, acquiescent repose, submerging quietly within its narrow boundaries. Sliding back into reticent form and diminutive positions within the easel's frame, their elaborate airborne dances evaporated almost immediately, leaving no trail in their wake. The previously conductive atmosphere's upper-portion simultaneously dissipated and fragmented. The room's upper reaches came to a halt, now completely mute, calm and, still.

The room's upper altitudes retreated noticeably, assuming a passive stratification, Its exterior walls retracted beneath invisible barriers before settling into an ostentatious state, leaving no indication anything out of the ordinary occurred. Watching the previously uncontrollable shapes settle into reserved disposition and impassive hibernation, it was striking how quickly they reasserted their basic outlines while their thinnest details remained consistent, visibly unchanged. It appeared that their impassioned encounters far above had left little impact on their outward appearance. Examining their elaborate outlines and intricate details signified that nothing had changed. Stepping closer towards the easel as they silently recorded their ephermal imprints, they reasserted control of the unruly page, imbuing its surface with their strangely incomprehensible language that remained difficult and elusive. Attempting to decipher what they were trying to convey was a task that remained beyond my perception. Looking towards the room's outer fringe, my eyes encountered a reassuring presence that I hoped would offer support for my tenuous position. Waiting patiently at a distance, Gemine observed the situation without making the slightest sound, her silence didn't bring reassurance.

Perceiving that unseen elements within the page remained elusive towards my conjecture or comprehension, she didn't seem overtly concerned with my lack of understanding. She waited for my patiently, standing at a remove. Occasionally shifting position slightly, Gemine didn't provide much in the way of elaboration. Her eyes retained their piercing veneer, insinuating themselves within the easel's perimeter and the shapes within. Looking at the shapes for an extended period, I wasn't able to determine what their precise meaning were our what she was trying to indicate. Her machine left long shadows and paths behind, the burned edges of her lines shadowed trails that burned into the page, nearly tearing through its paper, leaving it open with a series of fragile gaps scattered within its surface.

Her mechanical technique created a divergent appearance from the earlier work, giving those figures a sense of depth and permanence the preceding compositions lacked. Looking at them closely, their rough edges and shaky, uncoordinated lines felt much less precise, and their uneven forms lacked the balance and precision I'd expected. Her machine worked at a significantly faster pace than my pencil could approach, allowing her to focus on filling in the broad size quickly, this gave her enough time to sketch the figures' intricacies in greater determination, infusing the shapes' designs with more elaborate interiors. Glazing across the page, my eyes were inevitably drawn into her varied compartments. She composed her forms in a parallel style that didn't precisely mirror Gemine's original designs, but were close enough that their narrow divergence and incremental variations were noticeable when taken in direct consideration.

Both sets of mystifying shapes shared similar elements, coherent sections and recurrent characters, but there were profound differences. Many of her designs appeared at different sizes, angles and proportions. Some of her diminutive illustrations appeared to have greater emphasizes in certain sections while others appeared inherently altered for an unknown reason. A large number of the figures and shapes were arranged in a slightly different order. These deceptively minor changes to the composition were more significant than their mirrored-forms initially appeared. The figures pointing in marginally-different directions were particularly difficult to decipher, these shifts changed their meaning significantly, altering the trajectory of nearby shapes, even though they hadn't changed substantially. These minor, inward-facing shifts in the aesthetically evocative and temporally resplendent composition brought inconsistencies to light in vivid manner. Following her involved paths with any substantial degree of accuracy made it more difficult to assume what her figures' shapes were precisely indicating. Attempting to form a defining conclusion about their indications took prolonged and strenuous effort. At that point, their contrasts added layers of conjecture I couldn't rationalize. The characters remained indecipherable. Fortunately, they'd retreated into a hibernative state and sat unflinching as I studied their elaborate shapes, unworried they might draw me too far inward with an unexpected hypnotic wave.

Encountering unanticipated security, I wasn't worried as she watched me intently, never losing sight of me or the canvas. She allowed me enough space to work freely, and I was grateful that she trusted me enough by that point. I'd grown somewhat accustomed to her piercing, violet eyes. Her gaze offered a shield, but there I remained unsettled by the composition in front of me, struggling against her designs' purposely stratified convergence and formidable complexities, Attempting to formulate coherent explanations of their silent enunciations was proving to be nearly impossible. I stared at the page for a frustrating interval, it wasn't cooperating with my efforts and seemed to taken an increasingly defensive posture. Its innumerable uneven outer lines and inconsistencies within the shapes seemed to grow increasingly elusive. Interning what I hopefully determined to be a comprehensive visage of the paper's immovable forms, my eyes were filled with increasing uncertainty. I stepped marginally closer a few paces to gain a magnified view of the forms, but the drawing remained unwilling to divulge additional insight despite my consistent incursions into the determinedly unarticulated shapes.

Observing my halting investigation and subsequent confusion closely from a perceptive remove didn't prevent her from realizing that the paper's evasive designs had elicited disproportionate consternation, Sensing my wavering resolve, she glided in my direction without further undue hesitation. Taking position just behind my shoulder, she watched me as I carefully observed the composition. She moved her fingers across the paper quickly and thoroughly before switching angles and waving her hands in the air. This appeared to indicate her understanding of my increasingly perplexed conclusions and formless intimations. She took a step back half-a-measure and reclaimed her firm yet remote disposition, leaving me to fend for myself against the composition's intimidating surface. Working across its page with noticeable discouragement, I continued my examination on my own, hoping some previously unnoticed connections could potentially appear if my eyes maintained remained steadily focused on the easel.

She kept watching intently, despite my slow pace and erratic progress, overlooking my position while keeping her distant remove. She'd taken an unexpectedly generous location, giving her an unobstructed vantage while allowing me enough space to continue my excursion within the forms' unarticulated intricacies uninterrupted. The atmosphere settled down almost completely, not even the slightest breeze blew though the room. Its calm accompaniment allowed the page to remediate its shape, the stable appearance allowing me to elaborate the characters and forms without distraction. Keeping a steady form, the composition encompassed an increasingly intimidating space. Its traces, sketches, and figures intersecting with one another at sporadic junctures, while never obscuring their position or significant details. Patterns within figures repeated occasionally, with some variations but their indications remained elusive. Appearing to carefully indicate a kind of movement or directive of some kind, their intent shrouded, it still remained unclear what their exact purpose entailed.

Their appearance offering no immediately discernable measurement or enumeration. This required more effort on my part than anticipated, but offered vanishing elucidation. Despite embarking on prolonged exposure and detailed instilment, I could only attempt rough approximations, but my elaborate guesses only made things more confusing. Looking closely at their curved extensions revealed little additional insight. It was unclear how they'd been able to extend their protrusions in such amphora's movements and dances now that they'd resumed their dormant state. Their rigid limbs and extensions appeared locked-in place, cemented firmly within the slender page's surface. In this state of reinforced construction, the individual characters she'd scrawled with apparent carelessness, appeared to solidify unexpectedly into predetermined, almost mechanical forms that seemed meticulously placed. Their determinedly formative appearance gave little indication of the emotive flourishes she'd drawn, appearing from her hands only minutes earlier.

Guarding against further unwelcome inspections, the characters' unlabeled forms set in place somewhat defiantly, were purposely difficult to distinguish from each other without names. The longer I tried to understand their invocations, they offered additional recalcitrance and protective evasions. Passively defying my insistent efforts to detangle their incomprehensible amalgam, the unyielding composition's figures wasn't interested in making my excursions productive. Despite acknowledging my determined efforts, any further elucidations arising from my contemplations remained uneven and elusive. Gradually, I began to realize even sustained, invigorated efforts had brought little insight. At that point, an unsettlingly pronounced sense of discouragement took hold. I nearly despaired of additional determinations. I began questioning the underlying motivation, thinking I'd taken the wrong approach from the outset. Perhaps, the complex symbols she drew and the elaborate shapes had all been a mirage signifying nothing in particular. I uncomfortably measured the possibility that I'd placed excessive trust in something that was only an apparition. I looked nervously across towards the echoing walls facing the room's opposing sides. Walking towards the perimeter, I felt my head drooping almost involuntarily, hoping that my doubts were misplaced but fearing my instincts were correct.

My fingers grew increasingly nervous and unsettled and began trembling in slight nervous waves, anticipating further uncertainties ahead. I felt my weary steps grow heavier, held back to a degree with underlying reluctance as I drew closer towards her. I started explaining the problems I'd encountered attempting to comprehend her somewhat disjointed composition. Before I was able to complete a full sentence, she held her fingers across her mouth. Sliding them across quickly, I was surprised. Her thrown gesture indicated immediately that she didn't share my concerns. Unconcerned, the other figure moved calmly moved her fingers across her mechanical creation quietly sliding its controls until they retreated inside the construct's secure confines. Confidently standing just outside the easel's perimeter, she wasn't the slightest bit unsettled by the composition's lack of tangible response that reverberated through the unadorned surroundings.
Her mysterious convergent-light machine consistently responded to her commands with loud, unmistakable beeps. Gliding across the room's floor, effortlessly, her fingers flowed gracefully over her creation's dials and buttons. She kept her clandestine poise, surrounded by her magisterial flowing dark cloak made her seem almost apparitional. Its long sheets concealed her feet, making her appear to be floating above the surface. Her approach elicited an intuitive understanding that wasn't immediately obvious. However. she wasn't entirely reliant on emotion, she maintained a simultaneous combination of determination and perseverance using her machine's capabilities to measure and locate specific areas on the page. The divergent approaches maintained a measure of aesthetic consistency when they combined unexpectedly created a solid foundation that reinforced her instinctive approach.

The ebulliently culmative effect of the intrinsically connected yet visibly detached pieces was far greater than it appeared at first glance. Inscrutably surreptitious details emerged that started to appear within her shapes. The temporal extrusions appeared to infuse the figures with renewed life and energy, though they remained still and didn't budge even a fractional degree, This added definition began to enunciate muted aspects that hadn't announced themselves to that point, She turned inward than pivoted away from the easel before intently towards my direction. After making a final inquiry, she turned her gaze directly towards me. She took a step forward, and began speaking with increased confidence. It seemed that she'd encountered formative consistencies that brought additional insight to the designs.

She methodically read the characters imprinted on the page with increasing veracity and determination. Carefully working across the narrow lines and concise columns of designs until their shapes seemed to merge and their borders converged. The phenomenon appeared almost illusory but became undeniable as I moved closer. Unswayed by their motion, she continued her incursions at an incessant rate. As she worked, her fingers moved ever faster, until they seemed to vanish in a blur as well. She maintained her concentrated speed and relentless forays for several minutes, until she arrived with enough conviction to draw firm conclusions from the composition's design. At this point, her hands slowed to a still, and she placed them down, folding them nonchalantly across her cloak. She appeared calmer and reset her poise to a less agitated posture. Her calm demeanor seemed to indicate that she'd arrived at a partial understanding of the figures after extensive contemplation.

Her eyes appeared to relax and no longer held their piercing gaze. However, this didn't signify her defenses had been withdrawn She still appeared inherently reluctant to elaborate on her discoveries and determinations with either one of us. Glancing briefly in our direction, and nodded appreciatively but didn't explain what she discovered. Unwilling to elaborate further, she took several steps away from the easel and walked in our direction, glancing towards the ceiling in the general direction where the elaborate dances occurred, without elucidating her motivations. Wandering somewhat reluctantly towards her comparatively docile forms. The enigmatic shapes didn't move, and remained almost defensively still as she looked over them carefully, performing an increasingly elaborate, fervent conjecture, gliding her fingers slightly above their ascendant forms. Determining that they'd taken a proficient slumber without forging undue recalcitrance, she surveyed the unsheathed characters astutely.

Those initial efforts appeared proficient enough to keep her interested and motivated to pursue the shapes' in further detail. After seeming to skip across the shapes in disorganized fashion, she changed her approach. Her focus shifted from a random excursion as she began systematically checking them for outward bubbling movement, ensuring that they'd followed her directions obediently without divergence. Maintaining her silent disposition allowed her to keep control of the easel and contain the paper's emanations, this approach effectively disallowed anything from interfering with her unarticulated methods and surreptitious objectives. Attempting to stay out of her line of sight, Gemine positioned herself from behind, before at a distinctive vantage that allowed an unobtrusive view of the page without become intrusive. Despite taking on a closer angle for an extended inspection, she appeared significantly confounded by the figures' connotations. Walking a measured pace closer, the closer vantage she held revealed unseen elaborations and details. Internalizing the additional layers and forceful accompaniments of the composition's unfolding shapes only elicited additional contradictions.

Taking an irregular path into the page, it was impossible to read the figures in a straightforward manner. They remained immovable, unflinching in their forms. They still appeared uncoordinated, somewhat carelessly imprinted onto the page, their edges still outlined with singes and burns that gave them a rough appearance. In some regards, they seemed ripped into the page, their darker, inconsistent outlines scattered across the page's firmament in disproportionate tears. Despite the composition's elaborate design and unique style, its smaller elements appeared unevenly formed with numerous inconsistencies that made their message nearly impossible for me to decipher. I looked at them carefully, standing at a close distance but they remained unwilling to reciprocate my determined efforts. Attempting to make sense of her designs was a difficult task and I found myself continually frustrated by their intransigence. I surveyed the page with a concerted resolve, but they didn't divulge much beyond their basic structures and design. I looked across the room and saw her growing noticeably impatient as she watched my efforts with noticeable annoyance. Gemine's lingering confusion added to mine but she seemed to hold an undefined, indifferently serene reaction to the page's manifestations.
Her impassive determinations contrasted my thwarted efforts and I began to think I'd somehow gotten the wrong impression that caused me to embark on the wrong path. Implacable as the contingent figures and shapes appeared, I was determined to keep going forward, determined that something would reveal itself if I kept at it. She kept the source of her confidence close, an her clandestine approach was seemingly evasive and marginally unsettling. Her motivations were clouded and only partially clarified when I drew backward and saw her nod approvingly for a brief, consoling moment.

Searching for even temporal encouragement, I plaintively looked back across the room's perimeter and saw her fingers confidently flowing across her machine fearlessly. She didn't appear to suffer the same doubts and uncertainties that plagued my efforts. It was strangely reassuring to see her standing without the same irrational mysteries undermining my conviction. The shapes and figures still weren't divulging anything but her elaborate machinations were reassuring in a manner. It was strangely reassuring they were under convincing control of a steady hand. It didn't really matter, from her vantage, whether their meanings were fully articulated.
Watching her move resolutely around the easel, gradually floating across the floor in a cautious yet determined path, I couldn't avoid thinking her florid movements had been clandestinely infused with reconstituted emanations. Her actions flowed with unmistakable similarities to the moves I'd seen the shapes perform earlier, but it remained unclear who's lead was being followed. Either the shapes were following her footsteps or the opposite was happening. It seemed that she could see where the journey would end to a degree, but didn't want to explain precisely where the shapes pointed. I remained somewhat taken off-guard by Gemine's imperviously casual, seemingly innocuous approach. We'd spent an immaterial amount of time on the aesthetic connotations yet she didn't seem to have an appropriate measure of their significance. Without saying a word or giving me any warning

She unexpectedly shifted her piercing vantage, quickly adjusting its focus and intensity. It didn't take little more than a moment before she commenced setting her piercing, unyielding gaze squarely in my direction and seemed to wonder why I'd spent so much time dwelling on her diminutive illustrations. Finally managing to elucidate a few words, she suggested that perhaps my focus was misdirected. Gesturing towards her counterpart's creation directly, Gemine wondered whether I placed excessive attention on the machine itself. Perhaps, she implied, I'd invested too much effort excessively attempting to decipher her resplendent creations but only received unsatisfyingly marginal results. I wasn't immediately sure what her motivations were. It was difficult to understand what underlined her perspective. I nodded my head provisionally but signaled that I still wasn't completely sure where I'd gone wrong in studying her composition. It was increasingly aggravating that the figures on the page hadn't come back to life despite my prolonged efforts to elicit any movement from them and I couldn't help wondering where I'd gotten side-tracked.

She took several careful steps towards the easel and looked over the page slowly, making sure to go over it thoroughly and wouldn't miss anything. Eventually, she motioned with hands over the page to signal that she'd arrived at a conclusion. Gemine warned me that her determinations probably weren't going to be what I expected. After contemplating the designs and my countenance, she declared my work had followed a divergent path. Motioning towards the page, she swooped across the figures and asked me to name them. Since they were unlabeled. I wasn't able to offer any answers. She didn't appear surprised by my response and moved on to her next question. She wondered where they'd originated, if I knew the precise locations of their origins. I stood silently at an impasse, unsure where her odd inquiries were headed. The other figure appeared intrigued by this line of questioning and took her focus from the machine, placing it at her side and moving a quarter-measure closer so she could hear our conversation clearly while maintaining a close grip on her machine.
Walking back toward the unprotected page, Gemine waited thoughtfully, taking a fleeting interval before intimating that she'd encounters additional inadequacies watching my unfocused methods. She wandered around the back unexpectedly, circling behind the canvas quickly before re-emerging quickly. I noticed her hands clasped together for an unknown reason. In the background, I heard clicks and bangs as she began turning and adjusting her machine's instrumentation. Giving off a series of loud beeps, its noisy accompaniment interrupted our convergent collaboration impetuously. It wasn't precisely clear what she was doing with her inconsiderate machine but its incessant beeping had become distracting. It was little bit strange that she seemed so disinterested by her own creation, but it seemed that she'd grown detached from her work. It didn't seem to hold the same significance for her, the machine had cast its spell and she didn't appear interested in how we interpreted her robustly detailed designs.

This reluctance to elaborate on her intricate, resplendent designs was somewhat disconcerting but completely understandable. She'd sketched it out relatively quickly and hadn't put excessive effort into her design. Her machine glided across the surface with surprising indifference, but it didn't linger in any particular section for too long. She appeared to hold her connotative work at a secure distance, unwilling to get drawn in by its occasionally over-powering sensations. I realized its power, but wasn't able to ignore its pull as effectively as I would have preferred. Gemine seemed perceptively unaffected by the figure's emanating forces, but remained somewhat transfixed despite her avoidance of direct contact. It appeared that she countered the shapes effectively. Using the machine as a barrier, she held it in front of her, placing it almost directly between her view of the canvas. On the surface, it appeared was only giving the work a cursory glance, while she maintained a more appreciative perspective on its relative importance. This represented strangely convergent approach that allowed each of us to focus on a distinct aspect of the composition.

Her removed posture and distance poise was unsettling but not entirely unprecedented. She had a strange habit of working extensively then moving on quickly. She kept it a safe distance from view and wouldn't tell us exactly what its purpose was or how she'd managed its construction. Despite keeping it away from clear view, there were some things I was able to rationalize about her divergent-light machine. I never told anyone, but I remembered that her current instrument was only the latest permutation of a series of devices. Each consecutive machine kept a similar appearance and functionality but seemed to hold a series different capabilities for the most part, while dispatching others that didn't appreciate in strength or usefulness. She didn't seem to mind their uneven establishments, her work required divergent focus and implementation occasionally. It appeared deliberately inconsistent upon close interpretation, to some degree but I decided to keep its differing implementations to myself. She continued making corrections and changes undisturbed for a period, until her tangential excursions into its mechanized invocations became unavoidable. Her clandestine manipulations surfaced unavoidably. Her movements appeared to reach a threshold that she couldn't look past. With evident annoyance, Gemine impatiently looked in her direction. She began narrowing her sharp incursive gaze on the machine, her focused ire wordlessly expressed profound annoyance, Immediately realizing what her distraction with the machine's tools indicated, she quickly withdrew it from view.

She switched it into hibernative state and slid it back under her sleeve, apologizing for its disruptive interference. She turned back towards the easel and stepped forward, neatly paralleling our location. Squinting and narrowing her eyes, she firmly resolved the machine's frenzied commotion and listened to our intervening intuitions with undiluted energy. She appeared to take a sudden, convincing interest in our contemplations. Her abrupt change in focus appeared to placate Gemine's uncertainties, allowing her to continue our exchange uninterrupted. Manifestly relieved by her remorseful demeanor, Gamine resumed explaining where she thought my contemplations and formulations had become misdirected.

Transitionally diverted, my attention quickly returned towards Gemine as she continued elaborating on her considerations of my partial connotations. She asked me another question, that conspired to undermine my entire process. Gemine wondered how I'd spent so much time staring into the page, without coming to a relatively simple conclusion. I thought about it for a moment and couldn't see what I missed. I'd carefully followed the figures' lines and forms. I worked carefully retracing their paths across the page, tracking their manifold extensions and elaborations, while meticulously studying and analyzing their intricate inner designs. It didn't seem like I'd overlooked anything significant but the stylish tapestry of figures still eluded my attempts at comprehension. They appeared increasingly disconnected from the page despite being intrinsically placed within its surface. Internalizing her queries made their unyielding appearance more understandable, I could sense there was likely a justifiable defensive motive that explained their reticent composure. She issued another venture into my techniques, asking in pronounced terms about an inherent aspect of her illustration I hadn't considered.

I walked towards the canvas somewhat mystified as to what she was attempting to convey. The composition hadn't materially changed but it looked different somehow. I began studying its forms once more, and looked for an element that I hadn't previously seen. The figures remained still, unflinching on its surface. Their passive location hadn't changed in terms of size or shape, but there was an intangible difference I couldn't articulate. Extending my fingers in their direction, I squished them together and tried to compartmentalize them, extracting their individual forms until their extensions no longer intertwined. Newly separated in my approximate visualization, they remained locked inside their reinforced installation. Inspecting the elaborate forms offered little evidence of a changed perspective, they strongly repelled any father attempts to methodically evaluate their design. Crossing across the easel's long surface provided a strange rejoinder, their altered visage denied my attempts to arrive at determined signals or tangible connections.

Expecting a firm resolution from the paper proved increasingly as the unflinching forms didn't share my explanatory inclination. Eventually, I decided to surrender to their defensive posture, and threw up my arms in a frustrated gesture. There noticeable changes in their appearance but I still couldn't define what they represented. I'd seen them dance around in the air in elaborately-orchestrated dances but now they'd returned to their passive state. I wasn't able rouse them from hibernation despite my repeated implorations. I'd come to a stagnant, unproductive interval and looked around the room for additional guidance, but found none. Her machine was withdrawn and she stared at the canvas intently. Unsurprisingly, she didn't offer further elaboration or instruction as to what she'd left on the page. Her figures were set firmly in place without further adjustments on her part. It was clear that she didn't want to disturb their rest. She kept silent watch over my but kept her artistic challenge. I knew wasn't going to provide easy answers. She'd formed them using her machine but it offered no further assistance.

Watching the paper carefully, my eyes unexpectedly observed what seemed to be an invisible shield begin to form over them, quickly fermenting and obscuring across the designs in order to evade further inspection. It was unclear how I should respond an I determined that watching passively was no longer going to be enough. I looked over the reconstituted defenses and couldn't locate a point of weakness. Gliding my fingers across the page didn't leave a trace or evidence of any alterations. Looking at the canvas. I saw the paper flipping marginally and somewhat dismissively recoiling against my fingers' glancing movements. Assuming the obvious path was blocked invariably. I searched the room hopefully of discovering a more effective approach. It took a bit of time before I remembered that there was still an object reclining innocuously beneath the easel. This simple realization hit be like a glass-bulb and I felt a sudden surge of recognition. I'd overlooked a solution that was sitting there in plain sight. In a moment of excitement and anticipation, I hurriedly took the pencil from beneath the easel and proceeded to closely investigate and potentially invigorate the figures.

I placed the pencil on the page and felt a surge of energy, but was immediately disappointed and somewhat shocked when it almost immediately bounced off the page without leaving a mark. I didn't expect there to be such a strong pushback against my implied imprints, but I was determined not to get intimidated. I pressed against the page a second time with a stronger, more sustained push. The page's response was unforgiving, implacably repelling my efforts in a flash with the same level of singular indication. It wasn't succumbing to the pencil's persistent incursions no matter how hard I pressed down. Holding it with a resolute grasp, I examined it carefully to make sure there weren't any unseen problems. I was somewhat relieved to find the pencil's point remained sharp despite the unyielding surface it encountered. Conversely, its lack of connection with the page was indescribably vexing, despite my emboldened energies, the pencil left negligible visual traces on its surface.

I spun the pencil's narrow form around for a third time and decided to take a different approach. Twirling it around until its edge pointed at a distinctively unpredictable angle, I hoped that implementing a less-obvious or straightforward approach would catch the page unguarded and I could use this alternate incursion would leave a determined point. Determined not to give it any indication of my plans, I swooped the pencil behind my back and thrust it suddenly towards the page with intransient ferocity. It appeared to bend and sway inward, recoiling from my increased emphatic gesture and initially seemed that I'd broken its perimeter. Before I could realize what was happening, the paper quickly rejected the pencil's foray, rebounding against it immediately and pushing it upward back towards me with a sharp response. The paper's countenance was much stronger than I'd anticipated and the resulting countenance shattered the pencil's tip. Its narrow shaft of lead broke off and fell to the ground before shattering into innumerable splinters.

Looking downward, I watched helplessly at the incipient mess I'd created thanks to my impetuousness and impatience. The scattered pieces rolled across the floor and underneath my feet, there was no recourse. I looked towards the impervious page on the easel with renewed frustration, it had again resisted my assaults on its surface, reacting to my coordinated attacks with an almost mocking repose. I wasn't going to presume why it had formed such a deceptively strong shield or the motivations behind its emergence, but it had a profound effect of dissuading further impediments. The implications underlying the seemingly docile figures defied easy categorization but I was determined to keep trying. I gazed in her direction and Gemine didn't seem bothered by the sudden destruction of the pencil. I held the broken instrument in my hands and wondered if it could still be useful in some manner. I worried that had inexorably destroyed it, along with any further chance for additional understanding. Looking at it closely, I noticed it retained an unexpectedly residing feature. Lightly printed on its side, faded but still visible were a series of evenly divided symbols or letters, that were still legible despite its broken point. Holding its side edge closely, I studied the markings closely.

Expending pronounced energies until a connotation emerged unexpectedly, I retained a steady focus until was eventually able to partially read them when I held the pencil at a specific angle beneath the light. The diminutive, somewhat blurred characters weren't immediately clear, but I realized they held enough consistency that I could read them. This sparked another realization that jumped out in my mind. Thinking quickly, I placed the pencil's narrow edge against the page and couldn't dismiss what subsequently occurred. I used its approximate markings to ascertain the shapes' width. This was somewhat confusing since the letters on the pencil's side appeared to vanish when It turned, and slipped even slightly out of direct line of sight. It took ample pressure for me to maintain a consistent level of the pencil that offered enough stability for me to begin cataloguing the designs. I had to experiment and find the most proficient angle, but I eventually found a good location that allowed me to roughly compare the shapes' relative lengths and widths to each other. Implementing this putative approach, I regained confidence, hoping my efforts would yield tangible results. I couldn't help but become excited once more as I worked across the page with renewed spirits. Moving quickly along the shapes, I took note of the size of each shape while taking stick of their intricacies, thinking they would finally converge after sustained efforts and overcoming unforeseen obstacles.
Making sustained efforts that appeared to be pointing somewhere promising which gradually overtook my attention. I wasn't distracted by the footsteps behind me as they grew more pronounced, echoing loudly through the room in pronounced form. I continued analyzing the figures using the pencil's unreserved markings as a guide. The paper didn't divulge anything revelatory but I was making consistent, definable steps forward and remained determined to keep going. Ignoring the increasingly fervent poundings as they grew nearer, I concerned myself exclusively with managing her visible designs. Turning the pencil carefully and methodically surveying the composition systematically appeared to elicit tangible results. Maintaining a consistent rate, I kept my focus energized and accelerated my pace. The demonstrative footsteps had taken a rest. Somewhat curious as to their origin, I glanced behind to see that Gemine was unexpectedly standing right behind me, peering over my shoulders. I took her secure poise and lack of questions with relief that I was headed in the right direction. I heard another loud clapping sound just behind that shook the surface and stopped my incursions instantaneously without forbearance.

I was startled by her unexpected shift and nearly dropped the pencil only keeping it place through reflexive action. Pivoting away from the easel, I found myself vulnerable, centrally placed in sight of Gemine's unrelenting gaze. She acquitted a differentiated tone and set herself in a more demanding poise. Her body shifted in front off me until she blocked my view of the easel. She took her place and asserted her balance until she was standing just beyond the easel's frame. Holding her arms beneath the majestic gown, she looked at me firmly before announcing that she had one last question. I noticed the other figure moving in closer to ensure she wasn't excluded from the denouement. I felt a distinctly unwelcoming gaze pierce my body, as she strongly enunciated the contradictions and inconsistencies that derived from her pensive observations of my efforts with the broken pencil. She asked, without hesitation, whether I'd actually made tangible progress in determining the symbols' characteristics.

She elaborated forcefully and pointed directly at the pencil, before wondering what I hoped to accomplish using basic tools and unrefined methods. Her intrusive questions took me off-guard and I was uncertain how to acquiesce and respond to her worries. I wasn't able to enunciate anything substantial and stood quietly, staring back apologetically. Despite my extensive examination of the varied designs, I was completely unprepared for her line of questioning. Stymied and somewhat embarrassed, I stood silently for an awkward interval. I waited to see how she'd respond. but wasn't accepting further avoidance. Attempting to deliver a coherent response was nearly impossible. I ended up murmuring a few garbled words unconvincingly but this proved far from adequate. Stammering across the room, my unsettled noise only seemed to deepen her frustration. My insecurity couldn't be hidden and I felt increasingly unsheltered in that position. I knelt down and signaled with a sense of disappointment, that using a shattered pencil just wasn't up to the task. This apology appeared to breach an unspoken barrier and she told me to stand up, asserting that she wasn't angry, just curious.

I still wasn't sure what had driven her to follow a conditional approach to our initial conversation. I hadn't considered what she'd been hoping I'd actually be capable of extracting from the composition. She took a step closer, roughly sketching her fingers across the paper before she clearly elicited the source of her discontent. Gemine held a resigned energy, then making yet another contradictory inquiry. Unexpectedly, she asked me if I'd considered where the unseen inspiration behind the characters had originated. Before I could contemplate making another inarticulate response, she interjected before I could make a fool out of myself. She helpfully explained her reason behind this question in more detail. Explaining that she'd observed me taking inordinate efforts retracing the designs' shallow surfaces and superficial structures while overlooking the deeper meanings they might have elicited beyond their underlying their composition. She advised me to remember that her counterpart's artistic designs were inherently subjective. Her shapes were proportionately functional but simultaneously displayed intangible elements such as beauty, style and resonance.

These conclusions appeared nebulous, and weren't easy to quantify or measure. However, these intangible elements could be seen more clearly when I took a step away and held a different perspective that illuminated hidden sections within her design. She advised me to take a few steps back and look at the composition in its entirety. I shouldn't focus on its partial elements, since this would make me lose sight of the larger meaning of her design. She further clarified that her disappointment lied with the result that my approach only brought a partial solution when I began ruminating about what she said. Following this unexpected advice, I stepped away from the easel to gain a different vantage. My perspective shifted quickly and I came to an emergent realization that her thoughts were prescient.

It was hard to admit but she was correct that focusing narrowly on the canvas and dividing the characters into sections meant I'd overlooked the shapes' intangible message. It remained difficult to comprehend the characters meanings, but additional insights revealed themselves gradually. Complicated symbols began to surface when I adjusted my location, standing in front of the easel trying to locate the right distance from its converging face. Merging slowly into a larger piece, it took proportionate effort to patience before I was able to visualize meaningful aesthetic convergence. The isolated detached forms artfully combined in unexpected ways. Defying expectations, they crossed and twisted into one another's paths before manifesting at increased volume, depth and, resplendence. The combined shapes emerged in a singular form with increased vitality before blooming outward, filling the paper in vivid fashion, almost glowing when viewed at a larger context.
It took several minutes' to adjust my expectations, but eventually, a reinvigorated composition started to emerge. While I'd noticed scattered parallels that mirrored each other within scattered forms, the characters converged unexpectedly when viewed as a coherent indication. She'd designed them quickly in order to convey a larger meaning, one that wasn't immediately obvious when I struggled to decipher each figure. Examining them too closely, I'd become lost in their intricacies, without taking a measure of their larger connotations. I was able to decipher partial characters but couldn't enunciate her words. Walking towards me, she kept her machine silent and quiet, holding firm position from an obtruded angle that was unmistakably closer to the easel's proximity. After prolonged distraction, it appeared that she'd finally resumed a substantial connection with her design. Holding the convergent-light machine at a visible remove shielded it from direct view. Held steadily facing away from us an awkward angle, the machine kept its surface tilted away from our eyes. She never clearly explained the reasoning behind her defensive posture.

Gemine nodded approvingly and pointed towards the easel with relief and excitement. My eyes remained fixated on the combined drawings, with appeared to grow increasingly cohesive as my view glazed over the page. I no longer felt the expectation to focus narrowly, this allowed me to release my eyes from their persistent narrow squint and avoid further obsessing. It was a relief to expunge its details, this less-demanding approach allowed a large measure of relief from the pressure to ruminate excessively. The elaborate extensions and details were no longer acting as impediments. Withholding judgment until I found correct proportion and balance took some practice but I was eventually able to overlook the flaws when I concentrated on the composition's figurative demarcations. It wasn't always easy; I'd still occasionally get tripped up in the shapes' tangled extensions but they became less intrusive as my eyes learned to navigate around the figures untethered extensions. The composition grew more welcoming as I realized what was important, and figured out what she was trying to emphasize outside its narrow boundaries. Taking a firm step to the west, I noticed the transformation continued. Drawing closer to the design, its surfaces shifted almost imperceptivity at first until its aesthetic changes became undeniable.

The isolated figures fearlessly emerged from their aesthetic compartments, quickly converging then flowing together seamlessly into a greater design. They connected and began communicating in visibly connective fashion. This convergent emergence of a larger design provided unmistakable invocations and incipient energy. Elucidating unexpected emotion and resonance, connotations, her intricately-constructed figures appeared to transcend the borders of the page when viewed from even a slight remove. Imbued with reciprocal energy, they expressed convergent inspiration once they orchestrated themselves into cohesive form. Despite remaining still, their extensions connected, forming paths of connected and distinct lines my eyes could follow. The shapes appeared to flourish when viewed from afar, bringing new life and vitality to the composition that wasn't evident when I focused on its smaller elements, Drawing back several additional paces, her drawings remained intrinsically active. Sitting silently within the paper, the shapes maintained resolute posture poised to resume their dances. They were ready to jump off the page immediately at the slightest indication like the snap of her fingers. Their resilient partnerships were merely resting, waiting implacably to emanate from within their passive shapes. The intertwined shapes' narrow outlines inevitably crossed paths displayed an unarticulated energy that was contained yet abundant.

The rejuvenated figures' clandestine invocations were now clearly visible, but remained obedient to her command. Effortlessly gaining strength from their combinations, the shapes began glowing incandescently as their energy coalesced. Her composition held its basic form, her steady gaze prevented it from over-saturating the surroundings. The figures didn't budge or suddenly fly off into the air, remaining firmly beneath her firm command. I wasn't overly concerned by their renewed forcefulness at that point. I had a much better idea of what the demonstrably infused designs were planning and had indications how to avoid getting trapped by their purposefully-distracting hold. I turned eastward, complimenting her illuminative composition's overwhelming qualities, immeasurable radiance and evocative resplendence. She responded with an appreciative wave of her fingers. She was pleased that I was able to transcend the limitations I'd put on myself. Her voice rose, praising the persistence, humility and perseverance that finally allowed me to hear her composition's clearly enunciated directions.

- Michael Palisano