Was it because she took my first kiss, that she took away my life’s breath. Was it that she lied-she deceived-that one day suddenly the scales fell from my eyes and I saw Medusa’s head and saw life as a thing of terror. Edvard Munch (1863-1944) Dave. pinxesq Munch Read more »
To exaggerate the fairness of the hair, I come even to orange tones, chromes, and pale lemon yellow. Beyond the head, instead of painting the banal wall of the mean room, I paint infinity, I make a plain background of the richest intensest blue that I can contrive, and by this simple combination of the […] Read more »