The text is lost in the process of flow—the language dissolving into motion. Only the word “Sound” remains legible, barely—like a whisper slipping through layers of overwritten gestures. Meaning here is ephemeral, not fixed: it flickers, like a memory half-recalled. This piece began as a dialogue with writing, but as the marks took over, the legibility gave way to rhythm, to abstraction. The process became a kind of erasure, or perhaps a transformation—from the verbal to the visceral. The title Intercontinental arrived after the work was finished. It wasn't embedded in the creation but now opens up the reading—suggesting distance, transmission, fractured signals across time and space. What remains visible is not a message, but the echo of one. This is communication as trace—both personal and universal.