Stories tagged art

Leda and the Swan: Paul Gauguin

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Leda looks back over her shoulder at us as the swan grips her from behind while at the same time nipping at the nape of her neck. She's a freckled child and a little frightened. There's a dark smudge beneath her eye where the shadow runs. The swan

Van Gogh: Sidewalk Cafe at Night

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The heart of those stars is a dab of yellow light. The darkness of the blue night appears so deep because the downward strokes of the actual sky are interspersed with a violet that’s almost black,

Wheatfield with Cypresses. van Gogh

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There's no sky like that with twisting clouds shot up into by cypress trees that are so like dark green flames leaping out of the earth as if a dark green oily pool were on fire underground, and this was all that could escape, was its essence.

Hot Weather

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I would like to invite the public to an open-air, environmental art piece called Hot Weather. The exhibition will take place this summer. It will not begin until the temperature reaches 90 degrees. This demonstration is available free of charge

Paul Gauguin: Annah la Javanaise

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It's the outrage of the red monkey at her feet, And the nude thirteen-year-old woman sitting upright In the blue velvet chair, and the hints of blue at her navel, And at her lips and belly and crotch, that so upset Paris. Gauguin had his nerve

Nativity in Tahiti: Paul Gauguin

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The young girl has given up, and lies sprawled out upon the yellow cover on the bed, with her blue sarong wrapped loosely around her body. One arm lay back up above her head, where it was thrown during the exertion of birth. Her yellow halo surr

A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte

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A woman is fishing in the Seine at the far left of the painting, while time is suspended and light remains. One man plays a trumpet. A half dozen people sit or walk under parasols. Couples stroll and children run or sit or stand beside their par

Renoir: Le Moulin de la Galette

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Crowded into the heart are impressions past These are not recognized in the available light of the present. So they sit in the dappled shade drinking, the clear glass partially filled with various and red liquid. Hat tilted back. Black top hat S

Souls Glimpsed Through Blinds

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Now they go running through Grand Central Station where we see them every one on cell phones and ice cream cones their essence compressed onto their faces reading like a sandwich board of life like souls glimpsed through blinds n

the delicate nature of malachite

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She shakes her head, puts a finger to her lips and then grinds down on me and makes me forget. I close my eyes.

Roof of the World

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She ripped the roof of your mind off and you began writing like Dylan Thomas in the wind like Hemingway in Paris Bukowski on booze like Vladimir Nobokov on girls You began seeing the folds in the world like Picasso th

May You Never Be Happy Again

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“Everybody’s seen Tom Waits,” Chris said. “Everybody. His son’s a real asshole. I can’t remember his name, so let’s call him Fred. My friend saw Fred walking with his Dad, in Orinda or somewhere, and was like, fuck you Fred! And fuck yo

The colour! The power! The vision!

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... and photos of friends from former lives: the Wolfman; Drac; the Mummy; my ungrateful Son; even my gold-digging, coat-tailer ex-wife.

If Wishes Were Horses Beggars Would Ride

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Two people are talking. They are both wearing hats.

Museum Guard

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"Well if we break for lunch at the same time wanna sit with me? I got fruit roll-ups I'll share." Cory looked up at the boy, removing her hand from the water only to brush a lock of dark hair from her eyes. He was still smirking, jaw crunching, saliva