You never speak. You do not speak when you speak. Only a project of you speaks. That is, only a projection.
Your projection speaks on the canvas, from the canvas; your spectre speaks.
The canvas — as much as the sheet — is not yet a screen, but a promise of a screen. It shows no more than its promise that it will show.
A promise is always a promise of the promise, of promising. It is an opening (aperture) to fulfilment or failure. There is no assurance.
A promise only is in the possibility of not being.
Hence the foundational act of a language (of the sheet, of the canvas) is a promise — no more, no less.
A promise is losing yourself in yourself, with yourself, on yourself, within yourself, without yourself.
Losing, indeed, much like the spectre.
This spectral dimension of the canvas, of the sheet, is afformative; pre-/proto-/trans-figural. No figure, no image, messianism without messiah.
There is only spectres. We can assure: