The pictures on wikipedia and even in that magazine when i first saw it doesn't do it any justice.
It looks way better in person, i could see the lines the intention in every stroke and curve of his brush, every stroke was intentional like a word in a story it all just makes sense.
It's crazy how the work of a man who died a long long time ago is still here, alive thriving, he made it, it came to life through him, from his mind to the canvas.
And its still here living,breathing,thriving even when he isn't.
The power of art..
Its a part of him, so in a way he still lives on even hundreds of years later.
I run my hands across the frame careful not to touch the actual painting
"You like it?"
I turn around almost immediately My hands flying to my chest "Oh my gosh,"
"Sorry i didn't mean to startle you"
"No it's fine and i uh i don't like it I love it..and sorry i didn't mean to you know?"
He comes to stand next to me "It fine, i'd do the same if the roles were reversed eh,maybe worse"he jokes wiggling his eyebrows.
I laugh.
"My Dad got it for my fifteenth birthday when we went to Moscow" He tells me studying the painting.
"He knew how much of a van gogher i was still am" He clarified "Anyways he asked me which one of his paintings i wanted to hang in my room, i thought he wasn't serious but then again its my dad, he would have gotten me the entire museum if that was what i wanted,,he is actually pretty cool" He smiled but his eyes were bare, I recognized that smile,i knew it all too well there was more he was thinking about.
But before i could say anything he changed the topic brushing it off.
And honestly..I was thankful for the change, the air was starting to get a little too heavy.
"I didn't know you were into art "
"Yeah that's because i barely know you"
"Oh right thats true,i remember you rudely telling me earlier"
I gasp "What me rude never, you were the one being rude you were basically implying that i was a dumb"
"Oh my gosh June i never once implied you were dumb and you know it i just thought you were acting like a stubborn damsel in distress" He crossed his arms and turned to face me his lips curving up in a smile.
"Damsel, Really?"
"Yeah, or would you rather i call you princess" He asked
"The beautiful yet apparently stubborn damsel in distress refusing my gallantly chivalrous act of service" He said in an obnoxiously silly accent
I can't hold back my laugh i find myself holding the piano for support because I'm about to fall back from laughing , the accent just makes the state ten times funnier "I'm not sure you can you gallantly and chivalrous in one sentence," I manage to say when i catch my breath.
Did he just call me beautiful.
Was he flirting?
Were we flirting..nahh.