Heinrich saw through the window that would only be opened by us a handful of decades ago, through the hands of Dali, Beksinski and Magritte. The things he saw through that window, stained as it is, were both soothing and unnatural to the mind... So he never fully embraced it, only caressing his brush through the scenes and moments that were most peaceful. Perhaps he did well, for the winds of Morpheus are one stained glass pane away from festering us... The world of the living and the asleep should never meet.