Edouard Vuillard [French Nabi/Post-Impressionist Painter, 1868-1940]

Edouard Vuillard - Figures Eating in a Garden by the Water (1913)

Edouard Vuillard [French Post-Impressionist/Nabi Painter, 1868-1940]

Edouard Vuillard - Gabrielle Jonas and Her Daughter Irene Montanet by the Fireplace (1927)

Edouard Vuillard [French, 1868-1940]

Edouard Vuillard - The Cot (1903) 

Oil on board - 58 x 51 cm - Private collection

Anne Sexton / Edouard Vuillard

For the Year of the Insane

O Mary, fragile mother,

hear me, hear me now

although I do not know your words.

The black rosary with its silver Christ

lies unblessed in my hand

for I am the unbeliever.

Each bead is round and hard between my fingers,

a small black angel.

O Mary, permit me this grace,

this crossing over,

although I am ugly,

submerged in my own past

and my own madness.

Although there are chairs

I lie on the floor.

Only my hands are alive,

touching beads.

Word for word, I stumble.

A beginner, I feel your mouth touch mine.

I count beads as waves,

hammering in upon me.

I am ill at their numbers,

sick, sick in the summer heat

and the window above me

is my only listener, my awkward being.

She is a large taker, a soother.

The giver of breath

she murmurs,

exhaling her wide lung like an enormous fish.

Closer and closer

comes the hour of my death

as I rearrange my face, grow back,

grow undeveloped and straight-haired.

All this is death.

In the mind there is a thin alley called death

and I move through it as

through water.

My body is useless.

It lies, curled like a dog on the carpet.

It has given up.

There are no words here exept the half-learned,

the Hail Mary and the full of grace.

Now I have entered the year without words.

I not the queer entrance and the exact voltage.

Without words they exist.

Without words one may touch bread

and be handed bread

and make no sound.

O Mary, tender physician,

come with powders and herbs

for I am in the center.

It is very small and the air is gray

as in a steam house.

I am handed wine as child is handed milk.

It is presented in a delicate glass

with a round bowl and a thin lip.

The wine itself is pitch-colored, musty and secret.

The glass rises on its own toward my mouth

and I notice this and understand this

only because it has happened.

I have this fear of coughing

but I do not speak,

a fear of rain, a fear of the horseman

who comes riding into my mouth.

The glass tilts in on its own

and I am on fire.

I see two thin streaks burn down my chin.

I see myself as one would see another.

I have been cut in two.

O Mary, open your eyelides.

I am in the domain of silence,

the kingdom of the crazy and the sleeper.

There is blood here

and I have eaten it.

O mother of the womb,

did I come for blood alone?

O little mother,

I am in my own mind.

I am locked in the wrong house.

Sono nella mia mente.

Sono chiusa nella casa sbagliata.

: :  Anne Sexton, dal libro: "Live or Die"  : :

. . .

Edouard Vuillard

Edouard Vuillard

Denise Natanson and Marcelle Aron in the Summer House at Villerville, Normandy 

(1910)

ore 10:00 - coffee break (Edouard Vuillard )

Edouard Vuillard - Woman with a Cup of Coffee (1895)

Edouard Vuillard [French Nabi/Post-Impressionist Painter, 1868-1940]

Edouard Vuillard - Riflesso nello specchio sopra il camino (1935)

Lev Nikolàevič Tolstòj/Edouard Vuillard

Edouard Vuillard - Fuchsias and French Marigolds, 1903

da "Anna Karenina di Lev Tolstòj

Dici che vedo le cose troppo nere. Tu non puoi capire. È troppo spaventoso. Io cerco di non vedere più niente.

Francis Scott Fitzgerald [scrittore e sceneggiatore statunitense, 1896 – 1940]

da: "Tenera è la notte" di F.S.Fitzgerald

Essere una piuma invece di un piombo, volare e non sprofondare.


immagine: Edouard Vuillard - Fuchsias and French Marigolds (1903)

Edouard Vuillard

Edouard Vuillard - Japanese Figure

.

.