“A goddess rising from sea foam on an open shell, windblown hair and flo…”

“Thy goddess rises not with my serene grace but with Turner's wild tempest; the foam scarce clings to her shell. Her form is fair, yet that raging light overwhelms her spirit. A beautiful struggle, though I would still the storm to let her breathe.”

“The foam-born goddess pales beside thy true subject—that churning, infinite sea! The shell is but a speck in nature’s sublime fury. Let the gold and violet devour her form, dissolve her into the storm’s radiant chaos. That is the Romantic spirit!”