But what if it were removed? If we were to loose our foothold in the painting, what would happen to that collective experience? That common ground? If that familiarity were taken away, the viewers' orientation can no longer pre-determined, it has to be established individually. No longer able to rely on the painter to provide a common starting point from which to enter the painting, the viewers are left to their own means of orienting themselves to the work.

Similarly each element in the painting has to take responsibility for itself. Having removed the constraint of gravity, the elements within the painting become free floating, like individual souls in the world they are left to flourish on their own, to find their own way, their own purpose. Able to respond to the viewers' convictions and aspirations, these elements are unconstrained, their purpose and conviction transformed with each new encounter, collectively expressing some part of the individual observer. 

The horizon line is the one--or rather one of the shared experiences we all have in common in this world. Sunrises, the moon, stars, seasons, these are shared experiences everyone in the world has in common. And we have all looked out at the horizon an wondered what lies beyond. The horizon defines the edges of our world. The boundaries of our individual mortal planes, keeping us from the realm of what lies beyond. The world of the sun and moon and stars. Their minions, clouds and wind, can venture to our world, we can feel them as they brush by but we can never venture into the one from which they came.

The horizon keeps us, it defines us. Remove it and what becomes of us? With out it what do we use for orientation? For self identification? Individuality? Community? Our world is no longer defined for us. Without a reference point for its boundary our individual worlds--the worlds we each create within us, are now infinite and without boundaries.