Twenty First Century Romanticism.

Akke Kumlien appeared to me in my dreams again last night, even there in the realm between reality and fantasy the weight of his quill still remains. Not often are we acquainted with true beauty, the strain of wonderfulness that is so quiet only the keenest of listeners can spot it, the kind of loveliness that resides in raw honesty in all its brutal ugliness. Despite my state of drowsiness this the brand of thinking that possessed me with its firm grasp because alive, dead, calligrapher or painter Akke Kumlien haunts my thoughts in his truest, grossest and most fanciable form.