"This drawing had belonged to my aunt. For 57 years I thought that it was a plan of her garden. She died of food poisoning after eating an omelette. The map began to fade before I had crossed two thirds on the territory it represented. All that remained on the paper was a mark that could have been a signpost or the skeleton of a windmill. All those 13 maps whose territory I'd passed through had faded, but in their place on each sheet was the same mark or one very much like it. I hurried till I was sure that I had reached the territory of the next map, the fourteenth." - Peter Greenaway, A Walk Through H

The signpost or a skeleton of a windmill is a symbol for the undecidability of objects on the Horizon. There you definitely see something, but the exact nature of the object is unknown: the logo of the HRI does not have a fix form, it appears in various contexts and in manifold mouldings. The signpost or a skeleton of a windmill is an abstract sign that only has arbitrary (subjective?) representations. That is true of the HRI as well: the definition of the Institute verges on the impossible, the founding father being Proteus itself. Apart from many other miscellanea, the signpost or a skeleton of a windmill signs the double-language (English-Hungarian) pattern of the HRI. The signpost or a skeleton of a windmilldoes not have a name in the traditional sense of the word: it has two names. What it signs is doubious even if one minds solely one interpetation. As a signpost it presents the way to the future, as the skeleton of a windmill it is a memento of things past. Its overall, eventual interpretation emerges in an infinite conversation with the beholder.