Let me try a different approach, I was born in a world that was highly organized to be what it was. Everything about my conscious life was exactly what it was. I had the feeling that, as I grew, I was learning new aspects of a static thing, the world. I was studying a photo of a flickering candle and basing my whole perception of that candle upon the photo.
I had a few classes in psychology, which of course means that I know everything and nothing at the same time. And thus, I am entitled to speak out without you thinking me mad.
I was always fascinated by those schizophrenic cat paintings. I know I have blogged about them before. It is kind of funny that the world eventually appears either to be a descent into madness or perhaps a metamorphosis into something I never had the possibility of understanding.
I do not envy those who think they understand something, like whether there is a God or not. In the end, I envy no one for their knowledge. The unattainable is not worth the trouble.
But I am stuck with a question that seems so utterly obvious. Why is it that it only occurred to me as a Pink Floyd type of lyric? It is a valid question. Was Louis Wain really descending into schizophrenia or was he merely painting the world as it appeared to be, or frankly, as it was?