Untitled 1921

This untitled piece by Paul Klee feels like a page torn from a diary, or maybe a spell book. It’s hard to know exactly when it was made, or with what, but you can tell that the process was all about layering and letting different elements peek through. The surface is a patchwork of muted colors, like old walls with faded graffiti. The texture looks almost like watercolor that’s been rubbed and reworked, giving it a kind of ghostly feel. The writing, dense and looping, seems to float on top of the colors, sometimes clear and sometimes dissolving back into the ground. There's a particular patch of red and brown that bleeds into the text above, obscuring the words in a way that feels both accidental and deliberate. It's like the emotion of the words is leaking out. Klee reminds me a bit of Cy Twombly, not in terms of style, but in the way they both use writing and abstraction to create these enigmatic, deeply personal worlds. There’s a sense of mystery, like you’re only getting a glimpse into something much larger and more complex.