4. Bruno Schulz
Who knows how many suffering, crippled, fragmentary forms of life there are, how artificially pieced together is the life of wardrobes and tables violently hammered together... silent martyrs to cruel human ingenuity How much old, wise torment there is in stained rings of wood, in the veins and grains of our old respected wardrobes.
Matter has been given infinite fertility, inexhaustible vitality, and, at the same time, a seductive power of temptation which invites us to create as well. In the depth of matter, indistinct smiles are shaped, tensions build up, attempts at form appear. The whole of matter pulsates with infinite possibilities that send dull shivers through it. Waiting for the life-giving breath of the spirit, it is endlessly in motion. It entices us with the a thousand sweet, soft, round shapes, which it blindly dreams up within itself.