Brief aan Philip Zilcken Possibly 1921

This letter was written in Paris, likely with a simple pen and ink, and it's the kind of gesture that really gets to me. The violet ink dances across the page, each stroke a little performance of its own. It reminds me of how I approach a canvas, letting the materials lead the way, seeing where each mark takes me. Look at how the lines curve and loop, almost like a little drawing. The texture of the paper, slightly yellowed with age, adds another layer. It's thin, you can almost feel the writer’s hand pressing down, leaving an imprint not just of ink, but of emotion. The words themselves seem secondary to the act of writing, the sheer physicality of it. This letter echoes the spirit of Cy Twombly, who also embraced the beauty of the imperfect line, the gesture that speaks more than any perfectly formed word ever could. It's a reminder that art, in all its forms, is just a conversation.