This is a reply to a tag from seasofme to write about art.

A year ago, seasofme published a poem titled 'poorer' in her collection parallaxis. It is a remarkable poem in her inimitable voice, and reading it sent me into a long and challenging contemplation. (Please see the external link, if you wish.)

After spending quite some time with the poem, I commented to seasofme that I often wondered whether there were any point at all in my own writing of amateur poetry. Her reply to me was: "art is everything".

The scattered and tenuous awarenesses I had of a soul's need for art coalesced upon that reply. The truth in those words courses through my internal life now, in parallel with that other truth: love is everything. It is within this context that I would like to share the painting Two Human Beings by Edvard Munch.

Edvard Munch, Two Human Beings, 1896

Munch was born in Norway in 1863. His mother died of tuberculosis when he was four years old. His eldest and beloved sister died from the same illness when he was 13.

Edvard Munch, The Dead Mother and Child, 1899

It is evident from even the most cursory survey of Munch's work that he suffered from sadness, loneliness, and mental illness throughout his life in varying degrees of severity. His paintings also frequently evoke the pain of love, or that of its absence or loss.

Edvard Munch, Separation, 1896

Munch wrote the following of his father: "from him I inherited the seeds of madness. The angels of fear, sorrow, and death stood by my side since the day I was born".

Edvard Munch, The Storm, 1893

As a young artist, Munch wrote in his diary: "in my art I attempt to explain life and its meaning to myself". And so, I would think, it also goes for many of the poets. And the writers of prose, the musicians, and the dancers. Art is everything.

Edvard Munch, The Sun, 1911

I would invite anyone who would also like to do this tag, to please do so and to let me know when you have, as I would love to read it.

On a personal note...thank you, seasofme, for tagging me and for teaching me so much about art, poetry, the human spirit, and kindness. (Most definitely, kindness.) I want you to know I considered writing about my other favourite artists, Mildred Butler and Paul Henry, but somehow Munch seemed just right for this.