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The poems flow from the hand unbidden / and the secret source is a watchful heart.
—Derek Mahon
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🖌 Stephen Scott Young
Kuo Hsueh-Hu, Epiphyllum, 1962, Ink and colour on silk, Hanging scroll
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A constant starburst showers us, / night’s bridges snap now one by one, / and him who begged for Hades’ mercy, / the flaming skies turn into stone.
—Ivar Grünthal
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Illustration by Sergei Chekhonin
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“Until painting frees itself from the necessity of form, there cannot be the thing that music does.”
🖋🖌Arthur Dove