A perfect wee white point executed freehand in a fraction of a second


This attempt to “pass through” the vacuum as a haruspex (even Etrurian, aforeigner
in Rome), from the very beginning proves to be vain and hopeless: it is like matching
a circle and a square, a pyramid and anobelisk… Well, ruining the ruins, such “vain
and hopeless” attempt finally promises the abandonment by the white where they
were saluting, to guarantee a well-entangledskein. Eventually, out of this white the
refined imprecision of the “mask” flickers, dramatis personae greening over the
dryness of initial trips, taken by the hand untowhere the origin leaps from the black
hole of identity and inflames the “understanding” of the inveterate dementia of
“grasping concepts”. Only such distance from thewords allows them to keep
themselves so close to each other. This suspended arm-where points are
waves…-not adhering to itself, directs atremulous compass hand towards others
points without a role removed from the origin, a skyfalling to earth, invisibility that
exists… Forget “understanding”, here, either you’relifted or the levitation of white
keeps whirling-alas-around the gravity of thesymbolic. Thence, writing that
separates thought from action, yielding to the allgrindingmachine of fluid, slipping to
a healing fever: you fool yourself into speaking, filling the void-inaccessible but
certain-of a place where words would like to dwell.A cave painting… Once
abandoned the initial gap, here, where sole andpavement compress the air (on a
pilgrimage everything emerges…), one has to creep: on this bank the form, on the
other the content. Resolving to resolve nothing, everything becomes available.
Asalways, Meister Eckhart comes to our aid: “Wenn du Gott sehen kannst, ist das nicht Gott”.