Please call me by my true names
so I can hear all my cries and
my laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.
As Rembrandt's life moves toward the shadows of old age, as his success wanes, and the exterior splendor of his life diminishes, he comes more in touch with the immense beauty of the interior life. There he discovers the light that comes from an inner fire that never dies; the fire of love. His art no longer tries to "grasp, conquer, and regulate the visible," but to "transform the visible in the fire of love that comes from his own unique heart."