It Is Not Peace We

For Us Artists There Waits The Joyous Compromise Through Art With All That Wounded Or Defeated Us In Daily Life; In This Way, Not To Evade Destiny, As The Ordinary People Try To Do, But To Fulfil It In Its True Potential - The Imagination.

But I Love To Feel Events Overlapping Each Other, Crawling Over One Another Like Wet Crabs In A Basket

A Diary Is The Last Place To Go If You Wish To Seek The Truth About A Person. Nobody Dares To Make The Final Confession To Themselves On Paper: Or At Least, Not About Love.

Journeys, Like Artists, Are Born And Not Made. A Thousand Differing Circumstances Contribute To Them, Few Of Them Willed Or Determined By The Will-whatever We May Think.

…i Once Found A List Of Diseases As Yet Unclassified By Medical Science, And Among These There Occurred The Word Islomania, Which Was Described As A Rare But By No Means Unknown Affliction Of Spirit. There Are People…who Find Islands Somehow Irresistible. The Mere Knowledge That They Are On An Island, A Little World Surrounded By The Sea, Fills Them With An Indescribable Intoxication. These Born “islomanes”…are Direct Descendents Of The Atlanteans