luminous lines

nine years ago I saw an illuminated staircase railing for the first time. in the manhattan light sea, on this apartment island, drifting through its terrace, I could only pay attention to this particular strip. the railing struck me as more ethereal digital rendering than a steel, plastic, wire, physical embodiment rooted in a morass of concrete. no source, no falloff, only a thin line of radiance as if to another dimension. in the years since, I often chase the sight of an illuminated railing without knowing why. three days ago, I saw another diagonal strip of lights flush recessed into a wall. I finally understood. what is light to a prehistoric human? there is the sun, a searing point that illuminates the whole world. there are the moon and the stars, a pale white dot and a scatter of pinpricks hanging in the night sky. there is fire that flickers hazy amber over a lumpy glow of wood and charcoal. we have extended the catalog of illuminary priors. points: stars, the sun, and bare…