Far edge of the field

A single expanse, low and quiet, opens toward one distant horizon. The near space holds denser marks, shadowed and layered—pressures that softly dissipate as they reach across the surface. Farther, the edge thins, lifting into open silence where marks barely touch the paper. Every burden settles back, small beside the line that stretches outward. Space gathers, collects, then lets go. Nothing fills the whole frame. The scene holds steady, perspective pulling breath, always beyond the present threshold.