Emanuel Ranný

Lines straight and sharp as the needles that have engraved them. Lines that encircle and lines that whirl. Lines painfully crossed and cruelly crossing. Galactic lines, lines scattered and reminiscent of night-sky graining. Lines of the fields, lines of the paths, lines of the crossroads, and lines of the crosses. Clusters of lines, clusters so dense that they produce darkness, and when they begin thinning, light emerges out of the darkness. Emanuel Ranný draws light with black lines. With black lines, he draws white holes in the black cosmos. With black lines, he draws a sonnet of a July night in the Czech-Moravian Highlands.