XXLove letters   

 

 

When you painted your first watercolor in Paris,

 

 

The misery room fleeted in glow of candles,

You are so romantic when it comes to your work,

You love working at night,

Night hides you from your worries,

That night magical heavy paper was attached to a wooden board,

 

A sketchbook felt useless,

You didn't need it,

You could painted her at a stroke,

Watercolors cried out for daylight,

It didn't matter,

You had an awesome technique,

You invented your own baroque,

 

You worked with water and pigments,

As if you painted with oil,

Your aquarelles were juicy and stoned,

They brimmed over with dense colors,

Unlike almost transparent strokes of other artists,

The texture of paper was banned from lurking behind colored spots,

 

You took care of every little detail,

Mistakes were washed out,

Highlights and shadows fell down,

Directly on wet paint,

It was very painstaking and utterly time- consuming,

One day you would be rewarded,

Harvesting admiration and taking all breaths away,

 

You were the first, who was delighted,

She looked as if she was alive,

Darkness had no time for inspiration and sinners,

The sunrise was near,

In the adjoining room,

It's not easy to love Paris,

But it's easy to fall in love,

 

Overnight you became several centuries wiser,

Something was burning and stabbing your chest,

You put aside a brush,

The world woke up,

The image got vague and slipped away,

Mind was an ugly insider,

'Never ignore a vision,

It visits us only once',

 

A housewarming party was thrown by muses,

In your honor,

You was the one,

Your stomach was empty,

Your soul was dizzy,

The roof was leaking,

Contented you fell asleep,

It wasn't heavy rain,

It was universal grace filling you with joyful bliss.