Brief aan Philip Zilcken before 1927

This letter to Philip Zilcken is made with ink on paper; it's like a drawing made of words. I imagine Cato l' Hôpital sitting down, maybe in a quiet room, with a pen in hand, thinking about what to say. The words flow across the page, a dark, winding line, each stroke capturing a thought, a feeling. You can almost see the writer’s hand moving, pressing down, lifting up, as the message takes shape. It's a little like a dance, the way the letters connect and separate, forming words and sentences. It feels personal, like a glimpse into the artist's world and mind. When I see this, I think about Cy Twombly and his scribbled lines, or maybe the automatic writing of the Surrealists. I can see a connection, this idea of letting the hand lead, of letting the subconscious speak. Artists have always been in conversation, you know? This letter feels like a part of that ongoing exchange, where one artist inspires another, across time and medium.