Without Anxiety And Illness I

The Notes I Have Made Are Not A Diary In The Ordinary Sense, But Partly Lengthy Records Of My Spiritual Experiences, And Partly Poems In Prose.

I Was Walking Along A Path With Two Friends - The Sun Was Setting - Suddenly The Sky Turned Blood Red - I Paused, Feeling Exhausted, And Leaned On The Fence - There Was Blood And Tongues Of Fire Above The Blue-black Fjord And The City - My Friends Walked On, And I Stood There Trembling With Anxiety - And I Sensed An Infinite Scream Passing Through Nature.

Your Face Encompasses The Beauty Of The Whole Earth. Your Lips, As Red As Ripening Fruit, Gently Part As If In Pain. It Is The Smile Of A Corpse. Now The Hand Of Death Touches Life. The Chain Is Forged That Links The Thousand Families That Are Dead To The Thousand Generations To Come.

The Viewers Must Come To Understand The Sacredness Of Painting, So They Will Remove Their Hats As If They Were In Church.

I Painted The Picture, And In The Colors The Rhythm Of The Music Quivers. I Painted The Colors I Saw.