One of my favorite paintings, that I had the pleasure of seeing in person at an Art gallery, was the Nocturne in Blue and Silver; the Lagoon Venice by James Whistler (Oil on Canvas, 1879-1880).
When I was growing up, my teacher asked the class to sketch two professions that we wanted to be in when we grew up. My first sketch was, no surprise, a Doctor π (In my defense, I did end up in research). My second sketch was of an Artist.
I have taken art classes throughout High School and I still paint today. I would be enamored with the paintings in my art book, not realizing that it didn’t show (pardon this pun) the ‘whole picture’.
An image on a page can’t show the true scale or dimensions of an artwork nor can it capture the layers, brush strokes and rough surface in its glossy representation.
I was in awe when I saw that some of the impressionist paintings in the exhibition I attended spanned the length of a room. This painting, however, was the size of a magazine. I had seen pictures of it but it wasn’t my favorite until I saw it in person.
The best way I can describe how I felt after seeing this painting is that imagine that you get sucked into a void where you cannot see or hear anything else. There is absolute silence. That is how I felt looking at the ghostly boats and the small lights off to the distance. I could imagine crickets chirping in the silence of the night and the sounds of water rippling in small waves.
I still get chills thinking about the powerful impact this painting had on me that day.
Thank you for reading! I hope that you discovered something new with me today.
The gloom in this pic can also be resembled to the thoughts of an introvert. No wonder us writers could makes wild guesses π
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Thanks for commenting Doc! π Yes that is an interesting way of seeing it. Although a wild, stormy seascape could also mimic the freestyle of thoughts raging in any poet or writer π
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