In this second image of a ship, I see a boat, a yacht perhaps, sailing across the waves. There are many of these in and around the bays of Ithaca, homing pigeons flitting across the sky, carrying messages from one shore to another, the white could refer to a scrap of paper caught by the wind, or it could be a cloth, a starched garment. The waves themselves look like a footprint, the footprint of a meat-eating dinosaur, the one that crashes out of the forest, where it has been lying in wait, and races towards you, who are miniature in comparison. And yet, turn the stone upside down, and the waves become the branches of a tree providing shade to a couple, one holding a stick, the other throwing back his head in laughter. Waves, footprint, branches, are all one in this composition.
Meanwhile, in language, I would like to look at love, what we get if we count down from the ego, I to O, and turn “live” not into its reverse, “evil”, but into “love” (sin-son, logic-Logos). What is in this word, “love”? Well, we might see “oval”, which is the shape I imagine love to be, that is humble, the shape made by two hands held close together, touching at the base and the fingertips. I don’t think love is so bold as to be round and certainly it wouldn’t want the sharp corners of a square or a rectangle. “Love” is also in “evolve”, where the letters are repeated, it teaches us, it helps us to grow, it is like soil with its nutrients to a flower. The word “love” also contains “I owe” (v-w is very close phonetically, they are also a step in the alphabet), but love, true love, casts out fear – with love, there is no debt, we can rip up the piece of paper, the IOU. “Love” is also in “vowel”, a sound made without the obstruction of flesh, an open sound (“open” is connected with “eros”, n-p-r-s, jumps in the alphabet). But my favourite connection with “love” is “word” – the phonetic pair l-r, plus jumps in the alphabet, d-e and v-w. If God is love, and love is the word, doesn’t that tell us something?