![]() Behold how wonderful it is to live! Behold how wonderful to see. How wonderful it is to cover a surface that awaits me with my own victorious being! Wherever I’m spread, I see eyes shine, passions increase, eyebrows rise and heartbeats quicken. I’m not afraid of other colours, shadows, crowds or even of loneliness. I do not conceal myself: For me, delicacy manifests itself neither in weakness nor in subtlety, but through determination and will. ![]() I know men take notice of me and that I cannot be resisted. ![]() Part of me, the serious half, calls out to your vision while the mirthful half sours through the air with your glances. Because I’ve listened to souls whispering – like the susurrus of the wind – from book to book and object to object for tens or thousands of years, allow me to say that my touch resembles the touch of angels. I never thought of it before: I'd been living luminously between two eternities of darkness. ![]() Before my birth there was infinite time, and after my death, inexhaustible time. “I hear the question upon your lips: What is it to be a colour?Ĭolour is the touch of the eye, music to the deaf, a word out of the darkness. tags: art, color, colour, painting, red. ![]()
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