Book: Hawk without a head

I'm a poet, ' said Vincent, who never wrote poems, a painter created a single leaf, a lover, anyone not utterly loved, in short, people living a century without purpose and even without a head.

There are works of art, causing more interest to the creators rather than their creations, usually because in these works, sometimes encounter something that has always seemed to be only your own, personal, deep feeling, and involuntarily wonder: who is he, who knows this about me, and how does he know this?