THE GRAVITY OF THINGS
“How poignant the late afternoons of autumn! Ah! poignant to the verge of pain, for there are certain delicious sensations which are no less intense for being vague and there is no sharper point than that of Infinity.”
From Charles Baudelaire (c.1931) ‘Artist’s Confiteor’ in Paris Spleen
An encounter with Infinity Itself, Wanaka, March 2008, JBowring
