I would like to write like a painter. I would like to write like a painting.
The way I would like to live. Maybe the way I manage to live, sometimes. Or rather: the way it is sometimes given to me to live, in the present absolute.
In the happening of the instant.
Just at the moment of the instant, in what unfurls it, I touch down then let myself slip into the depth of the instant itself.
Helene Cixous, ‘The Last Painting or the Portrait of God.’
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