Prismatic Refraction

Cold glass prisms slide across the workbench, their edges catching against the rough grain with a sharp friction. Blue-tinted light slices through the air like overlapping shards of mica, carving the dim room into jagged tessellations of shadow and brilliance. As these geometric fractures shift, the boundary between the observer and the seen dissolves into a single point of intersection. In this sudden alignment of angle and glare, the world settles into a quiet, luminous clarity.