When Everything Else Physical And

I Would I Could Stand On A Busy Corner, Hat In Hand, And Beg People To Throw Me All Their Wasted Hours.

A Complete Life May Be One Ending In So Full An Identification With The Oneself That There Is No Self Left To Die.

Who Will Free Me From Hurry, Flurry, The Feeling Of A Crowd Pushing Behind Me, Of Being Hustled And Crushed? How Can I Regain Even For A Minute The Feeling Of Ample Leisure I Had During My Early, My Creative Years? Then I Seldom Felt Fussed, Or Hurried. There Was Time For Work, For Play, For Love, The Confidence That If A Task Was Not Done At The Appointed Time, I Easily Could Fit It Into Another Hour. I Used To Take Leisure For Granted, As I Did Time Itself.

Art, In The Widest Sense Of The Word, Is The Instrument Hellenism Has Used And Would Use For That Purpose. All The Arts, Poetry, Music, Ritual, The Visual Arts, The Theatre, Must Work Singly And Together To Create The Most Comprehensive Art Of All, A Humanized Society, And Its Masterpiece, The Free Man.

I Walk In The Garden, I Look At The Flowers And Shrubs And Trees And Discover In Them An Exquisiteness Of Contour, A Vitality Of Edge, Or A Vigour Of Spring, As Well As An Infinite Variety Of Colour That No Artefact I Have Seen In The Last Sixty Years Can Rival...each Day, As I Look, I Wonder Where My Eyes Were Yesterday.