From an imagined hell fear rises, from truth of heaven forgotten LOVE falls, storm clouds gather and from the tempest born, no longer one, neither beast nor angel, came the perpetually befuddled and befuddling children of chosen bewilderment calling themselves, who-man; what a mesmerizing and spectacular circus have they crafted, tight wire walking, trapeze artist throwing, lions taming and out the big top, the side show, where each moment with baited breath waiting; is this the now when they fat lady sings the show is over? Only to go ever on and on and on… A standing ovation; who-man! who-man! who-man! Chants from around the infinite are heard; oh, what insane encore shall there be?
“These images in vivid and violent tones have resulted from crystallization of memories of the circus, popular tales or travel.” ~ Henri Matisse