Harmony in cacophony, order in splintered spectra. Wherever Narcissus-X turns, Narcissus-X finds order, method: "Though this be madness, yet there is method in't."
Madness: artist's partner; bane of the bourgeois; gateway to dark wonders and incandescent chromatisms.
Is madness chaos? Is chaos ordered?
Or is a seeming chaos - - - order, not yet understood?
A simple order is understood by many. The more complex the order, the fewer understand. Many see fractal patterns and say "chaos theory." Yet patterns may be complex, and yet be ordered: frond of fern, arm of galaxy.
Euclid was not the last philosopher.
Narcissus-X sees order, where others see chaos. Wonder, where others see bleak nothingness. Is Narcissus-X mad? Or does Narcissus-X perceive where others do not? Are these mutually exclusive postulates?
Narcissus-X cares not.
For Narcissus-X is artist, creative spirit, vagabond mind.