A Perfect Line

Roland Dell was a successful artist.  His work was featured in several galleries. Many of his paintings were bought by exclusive interior designers and displayed in model homes.  His agent brokered a contract with Hollywood for Roland to supply art for movies and TV shows.  He was living the good life.  Nora, his model wife, loved him with all her heart — she especially loved the fact that Roland made lots of money she was free to spend.  Roland designed and executed art to fit into the most elaborate and expensive environments.  He was praised for his technique and earned several awards.   In the wake of his success, a nagging doubt began to plague Roland.   At first it was just a small irritant, but it was persistent — the irritant became a conviction in his own mind that he was really a fake.   Determined to prove himself wrong, Roland began to experiment to discover a more genuine and unique form of expression.  He started with basic “mark making.”  He started with simple lines.  He became fascinated with drawing lines on paper.  He began to search for the perfect line.  Nothing could distract him from his quest – not even sex with Nora, his incredibly beautiful wife.  Her complaints hung in the air like dried husks from a former life.   His agent’s calls were never returned.  The flow of money began to dry up.   Roland was oblivious. He had discovered a line that drew itself and in the drawing created life.  Roland clutched a pen and let his hand  glide across the paper.   He would not, could not  lift his hand from the page.  The line had to be complete — one continuous line traveling across reams and reams of paper.   Even at night Roland held the pen and drew in his sleep — his hand could never leave the page.  The line drew Roland as Roland drew the line.  Once discovered, the line was deemed one of the greatest masterpieces of all time, but no one knew what happened to the artist.


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