Deep feelings always mean more than they are conscious of saying. Great feelings take with them their own universe, splendid or abject.They light up with their passion an exclusive world in which they recognize their climate.
When people look at my pictures I want them to feel the way they do when they want to read a line of a poem twice.
Trapped in one idea, you can’t have your feelings,
feelings are always about more than one thing.
You drag yourself back home and it is autumn
you can’t concentrate, you can’t lie on the couch
so you drive yourself for hours on the quiet roads
crying at the wheel watching the colors
deepening, fading and winter is coming
and you long for one idea
one simple, huge idea to take this weight
and you know you will never find it, never
because you don’t want to find it
You will drive and cry and come home and eat
and listen to the news
and slowly even at winter’s edge
the feelings come back in their shapes
and colors conflicting they come back
they are changed.
You’ll notice that I haven’t talked about love. Or about happiness. I’ve talked about becoming - or remaining — the person who can be happy, a lot of the time, without thinking that being happy is what it’s all about. It’s not. It’s about becoming the largest, the most inclusive, most responsive person you can be.
Every morning, even before I open my eyes, I know I am in my bedroom and my bed. But if I go to sleep after lunch in the room where I work, sometimes I wake up with a feeling of childish amazement - why am I myself? What astonishes me, just as it astonishes a child when he becomes aware of his own identity, is the fact of finding myself here, and at this moment, deep in this life and not in any other. What stroke of chance has brought this about?