Atlas of Places

At its most basic, the blank map of a territory is an empty frame. Like a portrait silhouette, its vacant contour creates a space into whose externally distinctive but internally dimensionless features we may project our ideas about the nature of something still dimly perceived by us. But how does one represent a “somewhere” that can never be fully comprehended, or whose specified parts cannot be made into a whole? What form does formlessness take in this context, what frame does mystery require if it is to continue being mysterious?