It is a voyage. Voyage to a nowhere. I look at it and find that I'm standing in a space which is a no Place yet is real. But then what it is? Questions cease. They stop at the threshold of this painted surface. I float, yet I don't float.. I attempt to cross but find that the tender geometries floating around me are not attempting to cross. They remain where they are, fixed in themselves. I'm fixed in the endless vibrations of the fixed forms.
This is a nowhere.
There is no consolation, only a barren loneliness surrounding me from all sides. If I remain in these (no) space I would turn into nothing (which perhaps I'm) and if I attempt to come out of these, I will not be able to do so. How can you come back from a nowhere?
Bhopal,
Dt. 12-11-91.
Udayan Vajpeyi