Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

 his “inward eye” an opaque blue sky, with a few heat whitened clouds pasted to it, a long white dusty road stretching endlessly ahead, lined with dust yellowed plants and windblown trees. “Why is that beautiful? I can only feel the heat and am choked with the dust.” Then indeed are you hopeless, for you cannot dislike one part of nature and like another. Nature herself will not admit of a partial love - you must give yourself to her entirely and when