Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Paul Gauguin Tahitian Village painting

Paul Gauguin Tahitian Village paintingPaul Gauguin Still Life with Oranges paintingPaul Gauguin Joyousness painting
never pretended I had the memory and temper for scholarship, or even the intelligence: time and again I've followed some truly profound one to my limits and been obliged then to stand and watch, chin-high in the shallows, while he forged on past my depth. I was properly humble -- and properly indifferent. To make is not the same as to think; there are more roads than one to the bottom of things.
"You'd better take that box and get out," I said. "I've got work to do."
"Yes," he said. "Yes indeed you do!" As though at last we understood each other! Then he spoke my name in the gentlest tone (he had, I should say, a curious accent that I couldn't place, but which sounded not native), and indicating my work-in-progress added, "But you know this isn't it. There's much to be done; you mustn't waste any more time." In the face of my anger his voice and brisk, though still cheerful. "Nor must I," he declared. "Please listen now; I've read your books

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