And this is called, "A Leap."
It's set in a room at the Art Institute
in Chicago that has a kind of a sculpture by the architect who
designed the room.
A Japanese architect named Ando.
It's 16 wooden columns standing on the floor, 4
by 4 in rows about 8 or 10 feet high.
The ceiling is about 16 or 20 feet high.
"A Leap."
"Not always, but sometimes, sometimes, I unmoving,
they unmoving, I watch for a while
the 16 squared columns of wood.
Smooth, polished, dark, in a dark room,
standing all together.
And I imagine others of type, of marble,
of red granite, that like these refuse to hold anything up.
Nothing atop them.
No capitals, no architraves, no impediments, no rafters,
no roofs, no temples, no courts, no markets, no banks, spires,
or legislatures.
No slaves, no lost cause, crops, canons, accords, foreign debts,
recessions, no mandates, no systems, newscasts,
or calendars.
I begin at their feet and move my gaze upward along them.
Then at the tops, I feel the next look as a leap of my body
off free columns toward anything or anyone freed."