These, for me, are the two most depressing paintings in western history. They were painted by post-impressionist Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, a man who, due to inbreeding, was born with a genetic disorder that prevented his legs from growing after they were broken. After being so thoroughly mocked for is appearance, he became an alcoholic, which is what eventually caused his institutionalization and death. His only known romantic relations were with prostitutes.
And then he paints something like this which is so beautiful and tender and sentimental. It seems like the couple in bed really loves each other—cares about each other. Wakes up happy to look at each other. And I see that love and passion and I wonder how lonely he must have been. I wonder how he could paint something like this without it breaking his heart.
Maybe they say artists should create what they know, not because its unbelievable when they extend themselves beyond their experiences, but because when they pull it off with such elegance, it’s so damn unbearable to look at. I hate thinking of Lautrec, wondering about the lovers he created and knowing it was beyond his experience. Creating something that he knows is beautiful and knows he’ll never really understand.
Si lo digo porque @lagata lo ha puesto DOS comentarios más arriba, pero a lo mejor es intencionado. Y así me gusta, aprovechando cualquier momento para ligar con un forero, eso si es propio de ti
When love is gone Where does it go? And where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go? Where do we go?
Comentarios
These, for me, are the two most depressing paintings in western history. They were painted by post-impressionist Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, a man who, due to inbreeding, was born with a genetic disorder that prevented his legs from growing after they were broken. After being so thoroughly mocked for is appearance, he became an alcoholic, which is what eventually caused his institutionalization and death. His only known romantic relations were with prostitutes.
And then he paints something like this which is so beautiful and tender and sentimental. It seems like the couple in bed really loves each other—cares about each other. Wakes up happy to look at each other. And I see that love and passion and I wonder how lonely he must have been. I wonder how he could paint something like this without it breaking his heart.
Maybe they say artists should create what they know, not because its unbelievable when they extend themselves beyond their experiences, but because when they pull it off with such elegance, it’s so damn unbearable to look at. I hate thinking of Lautrec, wondering about the lovers he created and knowing it was beyond his experience. Creating something that he knows is beautiful and knows he’ll never really understand.
Pasa lo
Mismo
Tómate una caja de lexatin
http://jenesaispop.com/foros/discussion/781/fantasias-gif-de-ayer-y-hoy/p1
Pero si es uno de los hilos mas miticos
Intentaba ser irónico.
en serio? @Alex A esto no es propio de ti.
Y así me gusta, aprovechando cualquier momento para ligar con un forero, eso si es propio de ti
Y si, también pensaba que andabas de bajón, pero me alegro que no
Where does it go?
And where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?
Where do we go?