Script is the second book of artist J.J. Zana and a continuation of the series started with Cycles. Composed of fragments, it gathers eleven sections—with a central part telling about his experiments with drugs. The material is arbitrary. The support on which I establish my plans—the empty, but not silent surface that welcomes my compositions—is canvas, paper, or screen. The marker changes. The line, more or less thick, slanted or straight, is the one invariant. (In Diptych) The one mirror in the space, when I come across it, reveals infra-sensitive things to me: muscle tension, brightness of organs, courses of thought. (In Substances) Like physics, art seems to follow two distinct sets of laws: a first, intellectual, prosaic, based on gravity—and a second, instinctual, poetic, whose point of departure and of arrival is mystery. (In States)
