The Blank Page Gives Us The Right

The Metaphor Is~ An Origin, The Origin Of An Image Which Acts Directly, Immediately.

We Are Never Real Historians, But Always Near Poets, And Our Emotion Is Perhaps Nothing But An Expression Of A Poetry That Was Lost.

The Poetic Image Is A Sudden Salience On The Surface Of The Psyche

The Demands Of Our Reality Function Require That We Adapt To Reality, That We Constitute Ourselves As A Reality And That We Manufacture Works Which Are Realities. But Doesn't Reverie, By Its Very Essence, Liberate Us From The Reality Function? From The Moment It Is Considered In All Its Simplicity, It Is Perfectly Evident That Reverie Bears Witness To A Normal Useful Irreality Function Which Keeps The Human Psyche On The Fringe Of All The Brutality Of A Hostile And Foreign Non-self.

Dreaming By The River, I Dedicated My Imagination To Water, To Clear, Green Water, The Water That Makes The Meadows Green.