An Active Line On A Walk, Moving

In Earlier Times Artists Liked To Show What Was Actually Visible... Nowadays We Are Concerned With Reality, Rather Than The Merely Visible.

My Self . . . Is A Dramatic Ensemble. Here A Prophetic Ancestor Makes His Appearance. Here A Brutal Hero Shouts. Here An Alcoholic Bon Vivant Argues With A Learned Professor. Here A Lyric Muse, Chronically Love-struck, Raises Her Eyes To Heaven. Her Papa Steps Forward, Uttering Pedantic Protests. Here The Indulgent Uncle Intercedes. Here The Aunt Babbles Gossip. Here The Maid Giggles Lasciviously. And I Look Upon It All With Amazement, The Sharpened Pen In My Left Hand.

There Is Plenty Of Room Left For Exact Experiment In Art, And The Gate Has Been Opened For Some Time. What Had Been Accomplished In Music By The End Of The Eighteenth Century Has Only Begun In The Fine Arts. Mathematics And Physics Have Given Us A Clue In The Form Of Rules To Be Strictly Observed Or Departed From, As The Case May Be. Here Salutary Discipline Is Come To Grips First Of All With The Function Of Forms, And Not With Form As The Final Result … In This Way We Learn How To Look Beyond The Surface And Get To The Root Of Things.

I Want To Be As Though Newborn. To Be Almost Primitive.

The Artist Of Today Is More Than An Improved Camera, He Is More Complex, Richer, And Wider. He Is A Creature On The Earth And A Creature Within The Whole, That Is, A Creature On A Star Among Stars.