As I sit and stare at my paintings, which cover all of my livingroom walls, I am especially attracted to two among them. They are neighbors, albeit at the diagonal. Both of them feature a couple of swastikas. The older one shows a twin red swastika moving forward on a white background (“Eight Words,” March 13, 2002). The newer one shows two black swastikas merging together on a white background (“Mating Swastikas,” April 8, 2008). Both paintings have tantric origin, of course. They depict the sacred union of lovers. No prize for guessing that I miss my beloved very badly. Her arms. Her legs. And her divine crotch.