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out " life ", bitter to the individual, by a " vision
of beauty ". It is a work of the imagination. It
gives the feeling of completion by revealing the
oneness of experience ; it rouses rather than stupefies
the intelligence by demonstrating the importance
of personality, by showing the individual, depressed
before it, that his life is valuable — when completed
by the imagination. And then only. Such work
elucidates —
Such a realization shows us the falseness of attempting to " copy " nature. The thing is equally silly when we try to " make " pictures —
But such a picture as that of Juan Gris, though I have not seen it in color, is important as marking more clearly than any I have seen what the modern trend is : the attempt is being made to separate things of the imagination from life, and obviously, by using the forms common to experience so as not to frighten the onlooker away but to invite him,
The rose is obsolete
but each petal ends in
an edge, the double facet
cementing the grooved
columns of air — The edge
cuts without cutting
