The Viewers Must Come To

In Common With Michelangelo And Rembrandt I Am More Interested In The Line, Its Rise And Fall, Than In Color

I Learned Early About The Misery And Dangers Of Life, And About The Afterlife, About The External Punishment Which Awaited The Children Of Sin In Hell.

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 Road One Evening – On One Side Lay The City, And Below Me Was The Fjord. The Sun Went Down – The Clouds Were Stained Red, As If With Blood. I Felt As Though The Whole Of Nature Was Screaming – It Seemed As Though I Could Hear A Scream. I Painted That Picture, Painting The Clouds Like Real Blood. The Colours Screamed.

I Do Not Believe In The Art Which Is Not The Compulsive Result Of Man's Urge To Open His Heart