Gustav Moreau
The bricks are blurred and the moss falls like sheets of rain.
Orpheus
The Angels of Sodom
Part of it is the veil-- the thin scratches that come so close that it is hard to distinguish whether they have been clawed through the paint or onto the very lenses of my own eyes...
And the bursts of gold and light like stained glass, but in opaques... That's really where the beauty is... In the thickness of this glowing, vibrant, broken non-glass.
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