Art by Josephine wall
How infinitely happier and more grateful is the whole
personality or spirit when it finds something nourishing
in art or writing or thinking, than the mere mind
or intellect is: the kinship you celebrate in these
personalities is your own dismembered Orpheus stumbling
across another fine organ to rejoin to itself.
I put it this way: aristic psyche loves itself enough
to chasten itself, to put itself through boot camp for
the sake of being competent for life, alive to life.