I choked and stalled then stopped. I
miss the ones who have died.
Keats speaks poetically of the way
in which artistic expression is reached when he tells of the
“innumerable compositions and decompositions which take place
between the intellect and its thousand materials before it arrives at
that trembling, delicate and snail-horn perception of beauty.”
Dewey,J. Art
As Experience. (1934)The
Berkley Publishing Group, page 71
Poignant...
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