Vincent van Gogh Still Life with Iris paintingVincent van Gogh Harvest Landscape paintingVincent van Gogh Fishing in Spring painting
spoke: the seeker must be not only astigmatic but addicted to lenses, telescopic and microscopic; the tower he lived in I would convert to a sort of hugecamera obscura into which images of life outside were projected, ten times more luminous and interesting than the real thing -- perfect, perfect! And my amateur of would welcome and treasure his cancer, his admission-ticket to brotherhood. . .
But even as my enthusiasm grew, Stoker Giles shook his head.
"It's wrong, classmate." He even laid a hand on my arm -- I can only saylovingly. And for all I saw pretty well he was playing to the hilt his role of clairvoyant, the touch moved me. And the laughing candor in those eyes, that exalted-imp's face (doubtless practiced in a mirror) -- the wretch had a way with him! My quick disappointment gave way to lassitude, a sweet fatigue. Itwas wrong, of course; all I'd ever done was wrong. I had no hold on things. My every purchase on reality -- as artist, teacher, lover, citizen, husband, friend -- all were bizarre and wrong, a procession of hoaxes perhaps impressive for a time but ultimately ruinous. He couldn't know how deep his words went, almost to the wellsprings! Without for a moment accepting him asprophet (I knew all moods are
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