Originally posted by molly bloom
That to me is the horror of a Bacon painting- eternal silence and screaming without sound, and infinite space in a paradoxically enclosed environment.
That to me is the horror of a Bacon painting- eternal silence and screaming without sound, and infinite space in a paradoxically enclosed environment.
The others have me firing and arranging the chaos of life in a horrible guilt trip of decadence, lies, facades and dreams begging for change. Something at the gates of hell, while you hopefully have time to evaluate the trillion piece puzzle to a tangling entity of contradictions
Bacons' works rage in an absolute, horror of non-existence, while the others start trillions of vicious fights in a candyland setting, giving you nothing to look back for, nothing of yourself to grasp - until it's resolved
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