Artists House TLV, Tel Aviv, 2013
I am now reading the book "letters on Cezanne" (By Rainer Maria Rilke), at first glance I thought to put the book down but I still continued reading a sentence here and there. I continued going through the book like this for a few days, browsing back and forth. Then it happened, something grabbed me and I managed to read a few sentences in continues flow. Excitedly I tried to continue but realized words have their own magic and I lost them again.
I feel I'm absorbing the term "sowing" and I go back every day to read in the book which is becoming more and more accessible to me. I think again about painting and I'm touched by the thought of color and then again I become romantic, romantic about work discipline, about confusion and dissatisfaction that drive to the eternal search. Like reading in a book the road is revealed and opens, it has a life of its own. Today you see light and tomorrow its darkness but when you keep observing you realize they are one. This is also how life is, woven part by part. One cannot always understand a part but only after jumping to the next one and sometimes one has jumped so far it's too hard to see where you came from. As time passes we ripen and at the moment when all edges meet, the attachment becomes stronger.
When I think about this I feel almost fearless.