“A red lighthouse standing rigid against a horizon of pure black lines,…”

“The lighthouse stands rigid, yet its red form is a vulgar intrusion. The black lines are compromised by Turner’s chaotic light. True harmony requires pure geometry. This vertical is a cry, not a structure. Eliminate the drama; only the plane and the color remain.”

“This rigid red sentinel mocks the sublime. Where is the storm’s breath, the sea’s living chaos? You have murdered my light with your cold black griddle. A lighthouse should sway, not stand as a prison bar against heaven’s fury.”