The Nothingness is the space where what occurs kisses the nonoccurrence, thus creating the beauty of things.  There are no more cages, the old tower  has  been transformed into a bird, the stone into colours. The silence is written with pencils made of harmony and elegance. Here the natural umbrella of the pine tree holds all the electricity  of an invented ocean.  What an eulogy of fishes. What a flight that dwells on it´s own. What a gaze, inflamed by seeds and clouds. What a magic number of creation.  What a music in a brushstroke. Red is the bluest blue of all greens, ochre or yellow the purple of this heart-woman. The  god of simplicity  is odd and Dolores.
(Alexander Nikolayevich Scriabin,  Moscow 1872-1915. Musician who experimented  with colours. It is said that he even could hear them. In a line he affirmed: “I am God”)

Antonio Rigo

Translated by Karin Hess