Life Being What It Is, One Dreams

Whatever May Happen The Sun Will Rise Tomorrow As It Rose To-day, Beneficent And Serene.

Thanks To Our Cinctures And Corsets We Have Succeeded In Making An Artificial Being Out Of Woman. She Is An Anomaly, And Nature Herself, Obedient To The Laws Of Heredity, Aids Us In Complicating And Enervating Her. We Carefully Keep Her In A State Of Nervous Weakness And Muscular Inferiority, And In Guarding Her From Fatigue, We Take Away From Her Possibilities Of Development. Thus Modeled On A Bizarre Ideal Of Slenderness To Which, Strangely Enough, We Continue To Adhere, Our Women Have Nothing In Common With Us, And This, Perhaps, May Not Be Without Grave Moral And Social Disadvantages.

And Here In My Isolation I Can Grow Stronger. Poetry Seems To Come Of Itself, Without Effort, And I Need Only Let Myself Dream A Little While Painting To Suggest It.

My Eyes Close And Uncomprehendingly See The Dream In The Infinite Space That Stretches Away, Elusive, Before Me.

Do You Know What Will Soon Be The Ultimate In Truth? - Photography, Once It Begins To Reproduce Colors, And That Won't Be Long In Coming. And Yet You Want An Intelligent Man To Sweat For Months So As To Give The Illusion He Can Do Something As Well As An Ingenious Little Machine Can!