Art is a journey into the most unknown thing of all - oneself. Nobody knows his own frontiers… I don’t think I’d ever want to take a road if I knew where it led.
Louis Kahan
Louis Kahan
![chagalov:
Berenice Abbott, New York, ca 1930 -by Walker Evans [+]
from PdP
With thanks to chagalov.](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ludl690iA51qcl8ymo1_500.jpg)
I turned silences and nights into words.
What was unutterable, I wrote down.
I made the whirling world stand still.
What was unutterable, I wrote down.
I made the whirling world stand still.
These roses under my window make no reference to former roses or to better ones; they are for what they are; they exist with God today. There is no time for them. There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence. But man postpones or remembers; he does not live in the present, but with reverted eye laments the past, or heedless of the riches that surround him, stands on tiptoe to forsee the future. He cannot be happy and strong until he too lives with nature in the present, above time.
