The knowledge of color, knowledge of faith
buried in a text. The riddles of victory
and confusion with the paradox of history
that hypnotizes us. She moves in a swift
line across the wood floor and she moves with
the spirit of the room. I'm in a purgatory
between fine art and something applied, the story
of the work is incomplete. At the zenith
of the sky lies the Sun, the seat of a religion
of light. I apprehend her body sensually
and destroy every doctrine, the mountain region
swells with the word. This meditation relies
on faith, on love without a particular direction
that soothes danger and disputes what's holy.
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