The act of interpretation is an act of conjuring; an interpreter conjures the truth from stones. As a conjurer, the interpreter should endeavor to know of what substance the stones are made, how they have been formed, and how they arrived in their locations. Likewise, the conjuring interpreter should know something of the art and science of conjuring. She should know what she is on about. Interpretation is a science — an object of objective contemplation, it has rules, guidelines, and recipes. It is an art — not every interpreter is equally skilled at the science of interpretation; not every interpreter is capable of finding gold in the muddy, brown silt of incessant observations, of seeing white in the night in which all cows are grey. This art also requires, beyond vision, an ear for the sound of things, an aural tactility, the ability to perceive the shimmering colours between the dominant tones.