A Form (n.) that stuns with simplicity has nothing to do with expressionism or abstraction.
Form (n.) is what must be set against value: the illusion of the world, the chance of another scene, surviving only as a radical exception.
Form (n.) cannot be destroyed, whether as reversibility, seduction or metamorphosis, and believing so is an act of faith rather than a vague hope.
A Form (n.) cannot be swapped for anything outside itself; forms trade only with one another, and that closed trade is what aesthetic illusion costs.
Form (n.) dies of abundance: when every style is on the shelf, none of them is a form any more.
Form (n.) has nothing to do with fixing on an object; it is challenge, seduction and reversibility.
Form (n.) is never free and cannot be liberated; the only way to free forms is to link them, to find the ties that bind them and make them breed.