He entered that desired chamber of old sculptures

Ancient paintings holding mysterious stories

It gave him a rush, a natural adrenaline injection

To feast his eyes on the historical beauties

that have been preserved through time
that hold a certain connection between their creator
and the viewer
Fucking hell, what a link!

He marveled at each painting
trying to fabricate a story for each one
satisfying his own little fantasy
in his mind

He paused at each one
he looked at the voluptuous women
he squinted to see their eyes, where they were looking
“was she the artist’s lover?”
“look at how detailed her features are?”
“was it due to countless hours of love making
pondering, that the artist has beautifully portrayed it as such?”
“was she his fantasy, a lover that he never found, but would have loved to create?”

He glided on that smooth floor,
time travelling from one era to the other
from one painting to another sculpture
He has found his haven, he felt liberated
from that social strains that have killed
every sense of creativity he had left

but hey!! He has found the flame
that sparked the powder line, leading to his brain
exploding with hibernating thoughts, stories
ideas that he has never had the chance to discover, to awaken
FUCK never had the chance to even share

What a deadly thing, this society!

As he was sewing his own story of each art piece
he saw her
standing there, engulfed by Van Gough’s starry night (image 1)
She was part of it, camouflaged by the swirly brush strokes
She was the night, beautiful serene, and yet so mysterious

As she moved to the next art piece,
his vision followed her, her motion created music
BUT WAIT.. she’s changing she’s no longer dark colored
with brush strokes
Her hue is altering, her serenity is fading
Her scent even changed, he could smell the humid salty
beach, she stood in front of the “Great wave off Kanagawa(image 2)

She is now in that wave, curving with energy
dancing with the wind, crashing with gravity

He sensed her wild side, he could imagine her
waking up from that starry slumber and dancing
into nature’s most vicious yet gorgeous features
she is the sea…

After she soaked in that masterpiece
she took moved to the next with his vision attached
to her presence, he doesn’t know her
but this attraction.. that my dear friends
is a true form of art that no brush can recreate

Moving from that untamed wave
she kissed the shores of the next sculpture
Auguste Rodin’s “the kiss”  (image 3)
he felt the flaming aura
radiate from her to the statue, all the way to him

Her blue colors, morphed to the only imaginable
colors of passion in that statue, she’s wild, oh he saw it
and he saw how she has changed from that spontaneous
natural state to love, loving that statue, living the love
seeing the love and of course FEELING IT

His heart is beating, he felt that nostalgic feeling
of actually finding her, it is her
the setting was perfect, she’s a beautiful masterpiece
changing from one painting to the other
and he found himself, sewing her presence
into his own fabricated artistic fantasy

He walked towards her,
heart beating
adrenaline infused
realizing that this isn’t his fantasy
it’s reality
but as got closer
he lost her
in the chaos of Pablo Picasso’s “Guernica” (image 4)
he lost her in the dull colors
of instability
“she dove back into the turmoil within,” he thought
He went to the painting,
he wanted to find her pull her out
and place her
with him in Gustav’s Klimt’s “the kiss” (image 5)
a colorful masterpiece
where he found his lips on hers

Yet he wondered
what artful piece would she be
if she were
to be
a compilation of all the classics?

(Starry Night) 

(image 2)

the great wave

(image 3)


(image 4)


(image 5)

the flowery kiss


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