An Ode to Ornament

Minimalism won the century; the fleuron is plotting a return.

Consider everything the modern page deleted: the drop cap with vines in it, the printer’s flowers between chapters, the rule that curls at both ends because the engraver had ten spare minutes and a soul. None of it was necessary. Neither is dessert.

Ornament is generosity made visible — evidence that someone spent time they did not strictly owe you. A page can be correct and still be stingy.

So once in a while, in this garden: a flourish. Unnecessary. ⁂ Exactly as intended.

The opposing counsel: an-empty-desk.