Reality Is Just A Point Of View.

Basically, Sherri's Idea Had To Do With Bringing Fat's Mind Down From The Cosmic And The Abstract To The Particular. She Had Hatched Out The Practical Notion That Nothing Is More Real Than A Large World War Two Soviet Tank.

When You Are Crazy You Learn To Keep Quiet.

I Mean, Knowing People, People Are Terrified Of The Unknown And They Want To Just Kill The Unknown.

That Is The Artist's Job: Take Mineral Rock From Dark Silent Earth, Transform It Into Shining Light-reflecting Form From Sky.

The Painting Showed A Hairless, Oppressed Creature With A Head Like An Inverted Pear, Its Hands Clapped In Horror To Its Ears, Its Mouth Open In A Vast, Soundless Scream. Twisted Ripples Of The Creature's Torment, Echoes Of Its Cry, Flooded Out Into The Air Surrounding It; The Man Or Woman, Whichever It Was, Had Become Contained By Its Own Howl. It Had Covered Its Ears Against Its Own Sound. The Creature Stood On A Bridge And No One Else Was Present; The Creature Screamed In Isolation. Cut Off By - Or Despite - Its Outcry.