The beauty of the earth being round lies in the fact that a path never ends, you can only be stopped somewhere along the way. When it is over, it is never over because the end has been reached. The end does not exist. Every part of the way is important, whether it’s a smooth […]Read more "The triptych of time"
When every nuance can be discarded, everything is either black or white, reality, whosever it may be, has no place anymore. Grey is the only color that is truly there. Saying it is made up of black and white presupposes the existence of black and white. Nothing, however, has ever been completely clear, completely one […]Read more "The illusion of righteousness"
So bleak a prospect, so weak the light that manages to shine through. Through all the darkness that fills my head, the ink, the fog, the poison… a dimmed yellow speck is within sight but out of reach. That there might be something, so rare yet so yearned for that can unravel the spider’s webs that […]Read more "Unsettled mind, rough sea"
Distant screams… they leave me cold. What to give and what to hold? Wandering along the river, reflections of a past long lost, a future unclear in the impenetrable fog. The days we mourn are today’s scorn. Cut. Away. None of it seems possible but if we were to leap into that fog where nothing can […]Read more "The unknown: assumed evil"
One says that there is liberty to and liberty from. Two distinct kinds of liberty, thus, whose compatibility or incompatibility will have to be proven during this demonstration. In this dichotomy the first liberty is that to dispose of all that is needed to do what one wants to do and the second liberty is […]Read more "On the definition of liberty"
The abstract and minimalist finds itself under attack from people who think it lacks detail and the intellect of its inventor to make something more complex out of it. Complexity, one might think, is the peak of human achievement, baroque therefore is worth so much more than cubism. The opposite, however, is true. Picasso used to […]Read more "In defense of the abstract"
The glass is there. Right in front of me. The ice cube that I just dropped in my drink is already slowly melting, fusing itself with the amber liquid inside. Swirling my drink in my hand now, it all becomes so clear: the minute you touch something, it cannot be pure anymore. Everything is exposed […]Read more "The danger of preservation (Amber Liquid)"