This is how I imagine Twombly working: trance-like concentration with his pencils and crayons lined up and ready, and with his tubes of paint, advancing to make preliminaries, retreating, advancing again to make progress by undoing, and then retreating; not allowing himself to break off the connection but working towards the moment of contact: his actual encounter with the great god Mars, or gentle Apollo, god to all poets.
http://bigbentears.theparisreview.org/bigbentears#chapter-222246
http://bigbentears.theparisreview.org/bigbentears#chapter-222246
