“You see—no—you see beneath the crosswise strips of phrases laid—it’s like papier-mâché put over a plain and simple thing—an egg—and built up, layered over and over and shaped and painted Amazon blue and with fat gelb spots so it becomes this EGG—it says—this thing—it says, look, this isn’t just some sign system, the words just don’t stand for things, no more than things just sit at the end of words, it says, when I make an EGG of an egg, what I am doing is saying less in MORE, expending words like bullet rounds, billions of them, until there are burnt, hot shells all everywhere, and the thing itself is left riddled and warped and smoking and smelling like burnt vulcan rubber, it says, no, it says this thing, whatever it is, is more than what we think it is, and that the words that I used to make it, or describe it, or whatever I was doing, are more than what they mean—THAT is what I am trying to do. I wake up every morning and I try to do that.”

– Creye Givamene, 1963