After practicing with broad-nib brushes and pens, I decided to experiment with rapid, unconscious writing, limiting myself to just half a minute for each composition. To my surprise, I wanted to keep every single sheet, but I saved only one: ARS EST CELARE ARTEM. For a long time, this sheet of paper hung unframed, masking wallpaper defects in a rented apartment. The playful contrast between the letters reminded me of Ottepel-era book calligraphy and, at times, of things seemingly unrelated to the art of writing: cool jazz, Luis Buñuel’s montage techniques, and the stems of wine glasses. In other words, it evoked a sense of spectacular rhythm.