The afternoon sun cut off the corner of the room with a curtain spun of a million dust particles, which was just enough for the Architect to pay the statics lecture at the university no mind. Although he had drawn a neat little torque graph on the bottom of the page of notepaper, to what end, he did not know. But the afternoon walk across Liberty Bridge began to proliferate unchecked through his mind like the memory of a dream: tiny circles, amoebae, snails, and dandelion parachutes moved to cover the paper, spreading like cancer, rusty railway tracks getting lost amid a sea of weeds, a church tower, the roof which the Architect had blown away wholly, spiraling trusses and steaming tea-kettles. A low murmuring from the bottom of the lecture hall was all that caught his ear, and the Architect sliced the bridge in half lengthwise to lay bare the world within the immense foundation built into the riverbed, the tiny chapel with its crude oversized chimney billowing smoke. From the tax collector’s house, a youthful bridge arched over into the market hall that stood on the bank, taking long drags from the corked throat of last night’s frizzante wine. And, of course, the umbrella. Giclee prints on archive paper. Mixed media / Giclée print / Shipment 100x70 cm or larger prints are limited editions with serial numbers. Colors printed on paper or canvas may slightly differ from those shown on the monitor. Call me if you have any questions on sizes, colors, or customization: +36 309675100
