Nature Is Not Only All That Is

One Can Easily Tell That The Creator Of The Paintings In The Sistine Chapel Was Above All A Sculptor

I Was Walking Along A Road One Evening – On One Side Lay The City, And Below Me Was The Fjord. The Sun Went Down – The Clouds Were Stained Red, As If With Blood. I Felt As Though The Whole Of Nature Was Screaming – It Seemed As Though I Could Hear A Scream. I Painted That Picture, Painting The Clouds Like Real Blood. The Colours Screamed.

There Is A Battle That Goes On Between Men And Women. Many People Call It Love.

I Learned Early About The Misery And Dangers Of Life, And About The Afterlife, About The External Punishment Which Awaited The Children Of Sin In Hell.

Any Number Of Holier-than-thou Honorable Realists Walk Around In The Belief That They Have Accomplished Something, Simply Because They Tell You For The Hundredth Time That A Field Is Green And A Red-painted House Is Painted Red.