Brushstrokes, pictorial textures. The structure, between density and silence.
Stunned, time is absent. Neither what’s been said nor what’s possible: the instant.
The blizzard, what a nuisance, upsets the order.
What makes you restless if not your own desire?
The wind spins in a spiral forming an absorbing whirlpool .
The harmonic discourse is parallel to the discourse of noise.
Listening generates expectations, delays events, speeds up diction.
The idea forms the sound. The materials emerge, the ambit, its limits.
It establishes paths or rejects them: the arguments, unavoidable.
The English version: David Trotzig