The lifeline

This line, rooted in the pupil, is the irreducible trace, the mark left upon the world. I like to imagine that each of us carries a line, more or less thick, more or less long, straight or curved, full or empty.

Starting from the gaze, it builds and grows as time passes and consumes us. Marked by the experiences of time, this trace strewn across the face records the unity we form. Each of us bears a line and nourishes it. Some try to hide it under various artifices, others proudly display it, but the result is that it is an inescapable scar.