Art Is Hard For A Puritan To

And When The Sun Goes Down And The Mood Comes Upon Me, I'll Watch The Play Of The Colors On The Water, Yield To The Fleetly Dissolving Images, And Turn Into Pure Feeling, All Soft And Nice.

Art Is So Wonderfully Irrational, Exuberantly Pointless, But Necessary All The Same. Pointless And Yet Necessary, That's Hard For A Puritan To Understand.

I Was Assigned To The Waffen-ss But Was Never Involved In Any Crime. Besides, I Always Felt The Need To Write About My Experiences In A Larger Context One Day. This Has Only Developed Recently, Now That I Have Overcome My Inner Aversion To Writing An Autobiography In The First Place, Specifically One Having To Do With My Younger Years.

I Had An Uncle Who Was A Postal Official At The Polish Post Office In Gdansk. He Was One Of The Defenders Of The Polish Postal Service And, After It Capitulated, Was Shot By The Germans Under The Provisions Of Martial Law. Suddenly He Was No Longer A Member Of The Family, And We Were No Longer Allowed To Play With His Children.

Can It Be That Action Is Active Resignation? Something Is Trying To Develop; It Moves Ever So Slightly, And There Comes Your Man Of Action And Bashes In The Hothouse Windows.