I have noticed that the flatter an image is, the less it expresses, the more it will transform when it comes into contact with other images. At some point there must be transformation, or there is no art.
“That fair far spear of light now lays
Its long gold shaft upon the waters.
Ah! might I pass upon its rays
To where it gleams beyond the waters,
Or might my troubled heart be fed
Upon the frail clear light there shed,
Then were my pain at last allay’d.”
Ezra Pound | “Canzon: The Spear”