Nothing is true
Form and symbol are illusion
Shut up, calm down and feel the place of no illusion
The rest is a dream, imagination, mirrors
This experience is our painting the Real paints before us, for us and through us
It extends in time and space, always changing, destroying and creating
Folly and wisdom, holiness and lust, soldier and artist, lover and murderer
All in an eternal and surreal whirl
It's just us, this feeling, the invisible pearl in the heart
Which lives in us and in which we all live
Where is the sense?
Not on the canvas, not in the end, but in the dance of the brushes
Dance your life, speak your silence, paint the Void
And you will awaken the Dreamers and forget the saboteurs
