Today, I resumed my writing. I began with a stanza from the “Autumn” poem draft that hitherto I have considered complete, but now find incongruous. I am pleased to report that already I have composed, in rough form, several alternatives. This does, of course, further postpone the completion of the poem, but it cannot be helped!
Month: February 2020
To me, Romanticism was the only movement that truly began to answer the question of what Art is. Every movement before it was mere preamble, and after, stubborn rejection.
Forgotten Fields 