Munch wrote in his journal on the day...
"I was walking down the road with two friends when the sun set; suddenly, the sky turned as red as blood. I stopped and leaned against the fence, feeling unspeakably tired. Tongues of fire and blood stretched over the bluish black fjord. My friends went on walking, while I lagged behind, shivering with fear. Then I heard the enormous, infinite scream of nature"
Any artistic endeavour brings with it a dark side, as if one lives at the edge of an emotional sea. So then often the storm of emotions threaten to swallow the self, this is perhaps the price to pay for being able to interpret events in the macro world or personal world in an partly objective fashion.
This is my own personal view of The Scream, I see Munch falling from his own sanity into the echoes of madness and to me this is portrayed perfectly in the picture.
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