A student of art observed the cajones of Picasso, the absurdity of Klee. Something between the lines, the strokes told without words. Visual poems could wing to an eagle's nest on Jupiter with no birds or planets. A search followed as without, so within. Sienna browns, washed out golds of Conte crayon, and bleeding watercolors. A subject proved evasive. The student's paltry skills were consistently outstripped by a snow-capped mountain or a dusky meadow. In the negative spaces of the human form, a mocking genius frowned. Then one winter day, in the basement of a woodland house, the student viewed a rat's skull smiling behind a cinder block wall.