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The forest enfolds me in its multisensory embrace.
A night. A tree. A moonlight.
Watching in the secret heart of night, full of atmosphere.
Words like atmosphere and mood inevitably come to mind when faced with Picassos art; some are nearer our sensation and produce emotions that touch our affective faculties; others appeal more directly to the intellect. They all should be allowed a place because I find my spirit has quite as much need of emotion as my senses.