I used to want buyers for my words. Now I wish someone would buy me away from words.
I have made a lot of charmingly profound images, scenes with Abraham and Abraham’s father, Azar, who was also famous for icons.
I am so tired of what I have been doing. Then one image without form came, and I quit.
Look for someone else to tend the shop. I am out of the image-making business. Finally I know the freedom of madness.
A random image arrives. I scream, Get out! It disintegrates.
Only love. Only the holder the flag fits into, and wind. No flag.