I am a darkness without you. I miss you. I am walking up the street, but I can't see anything. I am my longing for you. And I hear laughter far behind me. But the laughter is just there, because in me is only my movement toward you. I am only a turning toward you. I am walking. I am walking to you, I am a turning toward you. I am my longing for you. I am only a turning toward you. I am walking. I am walking to you. I can't do anything else, I can only be a movement turned toward you, whether you're there or not. All I am is a movement toward you. A movement, a turning, toward you. I am nothing but you, but you, who are not there. And it's precisely there, in what I am not, in that which is turned toward you, it's precisely there, in that which maybe isn't there, in what is just a turning, a movement, it's precisely there that I am in everything I paint and see.