Inspired by Spirals

It’s inspiring, a spiral. Even more so when there isn’t just one: when spirals proliferate, manifest themselves, wander, seek openings. This moves the mind, excites it, sets it in motion – and never in a straight line, of course. A child of two and a half years, who also loves soap bubbles (especially when there are many of them and of all sizes), takes a soft lead pencil and, on a sheet of paper, twirls his hand: messy spirals. Graphic emotions. Laughter breaks out at every turn. How beautiful! It always comes back (repetition), but it’s never the same (difference). It bursts with rhythms which are generated by a continuum (a single line for multiple turns) and yet are modulated, taking some risks, and are dissimilar to one another: wide lines here and narrow ones there; emphatic strokes or relaxed gestures; overcrowded spaces (mostly at the center of the vortex) or empty spaces (mostly along the edges). It is a real dance whose outline the paper records, like a seismograph. The movement – of rotation – is undoubtedly very simple. But, merely by virtue of the fact that it varies slightly, constantly surprising itself – becoming wider or narrower, stronger or lighter – the result will be complex, potentially infinite in its diversity. A whole world is created through the countless actual variations of the hand, the emotional variations of the gaze. A whole world of forms that Henri Michaux knew how to describe so well: