So okay. All lines converge into infinity. This point. Right in front of your nose. Eye level. That's the vanishing point. It's always there.
I fought it. Ended up with some funky drawings. Even made the Vietnamese artist wince. I've moaned and written about it. Typed my arms off. Quit the job.
Doesn't matter. The vanishing point is right there. No matter where you look, there is a convergence. Right in front of your nose. Right there.
In the garage, I embraced the point... and the objects in the picture aligned. Before, I could draw a single object. Anything more, and it all went off kilter.
Accepting death as a termination must somehow do the same. I believe it must align what's on this side. Today, I could see it no other way... but in a good way. Over the bridge. Dang.
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