‘Those who have eyes,’ writes Georges Braque, my favourite cubist painter, ‘know just how irrelevant words are to what they see.’ Does this mean that I don’t have the eyes to

see? Perhaps it does. But it also shows my propensity to take refuge in words. I can’t draw or paint. It’s only words that I can rely on. If I turn to them, this is because when my eyes look at a painting, words help me discover more about myself.