Whistler, Nocturne Black and Gold
Oh, how Whistler moves me! Can you hear his cello? His tambourine? Or the piano that plays a single, simple key in the most hauntingly simple melody?. When I at gaze his paintings, I can hear the rustle of fabric from a dress, or hear the quiet gentle lapping of water on the shore; I hear the rhythm of sparks shooting high into the sky...each so beautiful that only he can capture this essence with a stroke of color. Whistler and his brush bring a sense of quiet stillness that settles deep into my bones. He paints with color that conveys emotion while subtly creating soft songs of music that repeat in your head long after you have left the museum.
Can you imagine if Mr. James Whistler had designed a dress? His paintings, whether it be skeleton bridges, his dear mother or a soft melodramatic color palette, all have a strong femininity to them. At first they appear soft, tranquil. Look closer and you will see a strength that cannot be moved. A power that only comes with having known weakness. A calm that only comes from having known storm.
He would have made an extraordinary dressmaker.
Can you imagine if Mr. James Whistler had designed a dress? His paintings, whether it be skeleton bridges, his dear mother or a soft melodramatic color palette, all have a strong femininity to them. At first they appear soft, tranquil. Look closer and you will see a strength that cannot be moved. A power that only comes with having known weakness. A calm that only comes from having known storm.
He would have made an extraordinary dressmaker.