![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP9n60Syu8YNH2gzDjQMlk1QjXTk0XkRpOanVzGGoyVioG98sX0v2YcTKV0kALo8RZGZw9yfDh0NPcLQdaRT5mYxX4NubqlzI5w1_wTXqWn4WVHf9WHHvx7Eezpefra_6_RATJRC8eBJnc/s640/Oliver+Osborne+at+Gio%25CC%2581+Marconi.jpg)
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Paint like burnished leather. Rubbed, treated. The point is the surface, a shallow pool both lets sight in and reflects us. We can theorize an internality, a subject inside, however privy we are not to it. A surface that warbles in inkblots. A "parsimonious difference." What do you see, what do you project. It's a new type of formalism where content is created then rejected, cancelled by the imbroglio of meaning. A depiction tampered, we stare at.
See too: Caleb Considine at Massimo de Carlo