Art Is Hard For A Puritan To

What Does A River Like The Vistula Carry Away With It? Everything That Goes To Pieces: Wood, Glass, Pencils, Pacts ... Chairs, Bones, And Sunsets Too. What Had Long Been Forgotten Rose To Memory, Floating On Its Back Or Stomach, With The Help Of The Vistula.

...i Remain Restless And Dissatisfied; What I Knot With My Right Hand, I Undo With My Left, What My Left Hand Creates, My Right Fist Shatters

People Have Always Told Tales. Long Before Humanity Learned To Write And Gradually Became Literate, Everybody Told Tales To Everybody Else And Everybody Listened To Everybody Else's Tales. Before Long It Became Clear That Some Of The Still Illiterate Storytellers Told More And Better Tales Than Others, That Is, They Could Make More People Believe Their Lies.

Granted: I Am An Inmate Of A Mental Hospital; My Keeper Is Watching Me, He Never Lets Me Out Of His Sight; There's A Peep-hole In The Door, And My Keeper's Eye Is The Shade Of Brown That Can Never See Through A Blue-eyed Type Like Me.

The Human Head Is Bigger Than The Globe. It Conceives Itself As Containing More. It Can Think And Rethink Itself And Ourselves From Any Desired Point Outside The Gravitational Pull Of The Earth. It Starts By Writing One Thing And Later Reads Itself As Something Else. The Human Head Is Monstrous.