By not naming it conventionally, we enjoy the vibration of something known but free of any conclusion that could be a limiting influence, if not damage to the unknown. It seems that a line drawn by an artist refers to a dialogue. It could be a life-long impatience kept in a hand's movement. Francis Bacon's colors are shaped like dialogues, once observed, experienced in winding bodies of his friends. Those dialogues can be read by us, the visitors of a gallery.
Dialogues seem to happen between objects all by themselves.
Then men may participate. In a phase of interference the verisimilitude of a relationship proves itself. The bow-hunter's tendon may be tuned for a low d before the arrow wants a finger to let go merging into contact with a deer. Then, a new dialogue occurs, linking the physical influence of digesting venison with the spiritual experience. The electricity at this front door bell is connected acknowledging that each foot coming in is on hold.