We see according to the dimensions of our hope
A child’s drawing goes right to the essential. If life feels blocked, the child draws a house with no door. If life is lilting along, he puts in lots windows, flowers, suns. The same is true of the miniature of the Middle Ages, where the dress of the great lady is bigger than her castle, where a horse’s eye rivals the oval of the moon.
It is not that we are dealing here with some sort of juvenile stage in art or a childish incapacity of the hand. Rather, the painter is expressing a perspective different from its indifferent and geometric reasons. He is following the perspective of the heart, which depicts what is not, so that what is can be seen better. An example. You are waiting for your lover. She is going to come. She said so. She promised. You stare at the horizon, you look at the landscape (what is she doing, she should already be here). In the landscape there are things (a forest, houses, a road) of various sizes. When she finally arrives, all the proportions of the landscape are suddenly out of whack. The diminutive silhouette at the end of the road immediately appears as large as the forest, the houses, or the road. She, who in the eyes of the geometrician, would be no more than a speck in the distance, in the eyes of the lover becomes bigger than the universe. We see according to the dimensions of his hope. The 13th century has a heart full of hope, which [makes] the faces of the Romanesque churches [resemble] nothing more than a child’s drawing.
It seems that there is a very specific area in the brain which could be called poetic memory and which records what has charmed us, what has moved us, what gives our life its beauty.
Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity... It is, in short, the subject of the history of the Grail. Only a predestined being has the ability to ask another: what is your torment? And he doesn't have it when he enters life. He has to go through years of dark night.
Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value.
Almost everyone in the world is self-absorbed within themselves. They regard themselves as the most important beings. People rarely speak bad about themselves. They are the heroes in their own story no matter how much entanglement of lies and bullshit is needed to achieve a gratifying and satisfying version of the tale.
By observing their actions, you could trace back their thought pattern, intentions, interest, and vision. Stop for a moment and analyze the action. Stop caring about what they say, what they think about how the world should be, how everyone can execute their best, or why the world is so messed up. They speak whatever hell it takes to sound amazing. Listen to their actions. Listen only and only to their actions.
We all have forests on our minds. Forests unexplored, unending. Each one of us gets lost in the forest, every night, alone.