It is difficult to resist the urge to explain, even if only to oneself, the experience of encountering a work of art. To be fully, autonomously human is to be self-aware, capable of learning, capable of understanding what we do as we do it. A great deal of postwar art relies on that capacity. It engages us, makes us active and holds us in the present. Often it is enigmatic, even frustratingly cryptic, and occasionally impossible to understand fully. Coming to terms with Twombly’s indirect connections might feel like tinkering with an equation that will never be solved; or like falling in love for the first time, again and again. Each experience has an innate history that defies words.
James Lawrence, Cy Twombly’s Cryptic Nature,