A vacant white room with lights is still a submission to the neutral. Works of art seen in such spaces seem to be going through a kind of esthetic convalescence.
Christianity is fundamentally convalescence. . . God is not only the doctor who prescribes, He is the nurse who lifts up our powerless head and puts the spoon in our mouth. . . And He is the medicine.
But if I must be alone, I refuse to be alone as if it were something weak and distasteful, like convalescence.