Max Ernst And Found Patterns

For some acidheads it was the trails, some were -- puerile as it sounds -- trying to expand their consciousnesses. For me, it was the way random textures seemed to organize themselves into elusive geometries.

I met a girl in Galesburg, Illinois, forty years ago -- Meg. Her aunt was Dorothea Tanning, Max Ernst's wife. Meg, who didn't like me, was gracious enough to take me to her house, and show me a gallery of Tanning paintings and Ernst collages. She made a point of telling me something like, "a lot of people think that Uncle Max gets his images from taking psychedelics, but you don't need to take drugs to make pictures like these."