The Invisible Language of Smoke

There exists a language that precedes words. It belongs neither to speech nor to writing. It is the language of ancient gestures, of silent rituals, of things that appear meaningless yet conceal a secret. Smoke is one of them.

Since the dawn of humanity, man has entrusted to smoke something he longs to free from the gravity of the earth. He lets it rise toward the heavens like a prayer without dogma, like a thought that refuses to be confined. Smoke has no weight. It recognizes no borders. It remembers nothing of the shape it held only a moment before. It is the visible manifestation of the invisible.