Felix begins with the physical act of writing, using a marker to list English words before deconstructing them. By cutting these pages into strips and reordering them, he strips the language of its literal utility, arriving at 'asemic writing'—a global practice where the script suggests meaning without dictating it. The resulting marks are rhythmic and dense, a fusion of ink and intent that invites the eye to read the shapes instead of the sounds.

The background features a vintage illustration of an abacus, grounding the abstract script in a history of calculation and order. The title, Ābhāq, references a Phoenician or Hebrew root meaning 'sand strewn on a surface for writing.' This connection highlights the ephemeral nature of communication, where Felix’s digital scan preserves a moment of 'dust' that has been meticulously rearranged into a permanent, graphic composition.