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What dreams may come, indeed?

Howard’s first piece in the sesqui-centennial series was a challenge to walk through the cityscape with all his senses on hyper. That was in 2006 and Agincourt had a handful of buildings and only a skeleton population. That piece was lost in a computer crash but I recall an off-the-cuff reference to “Mrs Schoenfeld’s cat” startling Howard during his walk, as it tore across his path from beneath a spirea.

For six years the incident had remained just that: a five-second shard of time founded on an accident. Fast forward to three weeks ago, when I saw this painting by Jerome Atherholt, an artist now working in the computer gaming industry. Atherholt is, for what it’s worth, ten years younger than I am—and probably a bit better off, but who’s counting. Shall I approach him and ask about the circumstances surrounding this work? There is a story in here. But do you suppose there’s room enough for Mrs Schoenfeld’s cat?

Jeromeatherholt


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