The Cry

Scream. We do it all the time; happy or sad; you just go fro it.
How about scared. It comes with the combo, too.

This one here is one of my favorites, The Scream by Edvard Munch. So fascinatingly delicate, so strong and thick at the same time. The face is just impressive, it is vital for every person that thinks is sick, to see. This is clearly what you're looking for when you want to shed a tear.


In a page in his diary headed Nice 22.01.1892, Munch described his inspiration for the image thus:


"I was walking along a path with two friends – the sun was setting – suddenly the sky turned blood red – I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence – there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city – my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety – and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature."   (source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Scream....obviously)

So, according to his diary entry, we, the public, can now understand why art is another language, a language like any other--used to express a message.  But then that's where the debate takes place; what if you did art for no reason...? Is that even possible?