The Muralist

07 Apr 2011

Within thedrowsy oils of the muralist's art, lies weathered strokes a metered visage of expression spanning walls. With his heart cleaved out spewing terminal blood he imbeds piece-by-piece his soul into each pained child. But behold labor's end: his manna-stained facades; thefloodingwells ofunfiltered creation.

frigid

"Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no...

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