In her own words...
Unshakable, removed. As he lay there it was stunningly clear that he would die. And that there would be no compromise, no revelation, nothing for me anywhere….
Tonight, gray is the end color, the end result. Ash is the color of the sky, the lid of the town, the fur in the mouth. Time lives with space, unperturbed; Father Time, Mother Space. They are king and queen of the world and the universe and the whole bit. Invincible. They are the only ones.
There is no sound, his breath is feather-silent. A private event is taking place. Not to be disturbed by sorrowing faces, Loplop, Bird Superior, prepares in solitude, in the graceful space of his lofty aerie, his diminishing and his departure.
He is like a lake with an echo: I say Max, everyone says Max, the lake says Max, the echo says Max (far away), and Max is everywhere and part of my throat and the mote in the air.
I hold my screaming ears that no one but me can hear.
–from Between Lives: An Artist and Her World. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2001, pp. 289, 293.
