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I decided to start an Instagram account for these images, in the hope that I might learn something about the artist.
Every time I look at the manuscript, I’m shaken. There’s Europe, in kaleidoscopic fragments, at the moment of its implosion . . . and it goes on and on, all the way down.
A way of working through an obsession? Putting memory in its place?
I know not everyone in Switzerland was there for a rest cure . . . but maybe this is some kind of therapeutic exercise?
I bought the manuscript from a German dealer, who had acquired it through the trade in Zurich.