tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-307380402024-03-25T06:09:39.712+00:00p.i.g.m.e.n.t.i.u.m<b><i>collecting colours over a cup of coffee...</i></b>Lghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814806570260310180noreply@blogger.comBlogger1189125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-61053342908011934102021-07-20T17:52:00.002+01:002021-07-20T17:52:28.629+01:00Portrait of Elsie PalmerPortrait of Elsie Palmer, John Singer Sargent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwsMAXjllYeeopDjDSV_h0RGL11bL50lHCjN84YG7YXQTxUJcKRTAvqM71aMN1IGXED3g8_BmX2_hSv5Ey5a6p5IVzZGcqNr43wKPikip_8hWt7WTsyaoYqHsESt3WI_WqjP02/s1088/elsie-palmer-by-john-singer-sargent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1088" data-original-width="651" height="361" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwsMAXjllYeeopDjDSV_h0RGL11bL50lHCjN84YG7YXQTxUJcKRTAvqM71aMN1IGXED3g8_BmX2_hSv5Ey5a6p5IVzZGcqNr43wKPikip_8hWt7WTsyaoYqHsESt3WI_WqjP02/w227-h361/elsie-palmer-by-john-singer-sargent.jpg" width="227" /></a></div> Portrait of Elsie Palmer, John Singer Sargent, 1889-90Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-12667094443884722012020-08-30T02:32:00.004+01:002020-08-30T02:34:26.761+01:00Old Kyoto, Evgeny Lushpin <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5mKYRQuVqZWveaXBjR9EDsX_AaVBY4uESYAlcIVpQX705Tas_lVivbUpl-3AP-Jsvw7uFu655SkC4PW43R34c9qpFh7-HqhdpROc950iYP-374g58jPMfqYap9ZL7ZZjirVc/s800/Old_Kyoto__1_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="587" data-original-width="800" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge5mKYRQuVqZWveaXBjR9EDsX_AaVBY4uESYAlcIVpQX705Tas_lVivbUpl-3AP-Jsvw7uFu655SkC4PW43R34c9qpFh7-HqhdpROc950iYP-374g58jPMfqYap9ZL7ZZjirVc/s640/Old_Kyoto__1_.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Old Kyoto, Evgeny Lushpin, Oil on Canvas, 2015</div>Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-80156317228838518562020-08-03T23:22:00.000+01:002020-08-03T23:22:18.181+01:00Grand Canal, Venice <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-oWFZ3DHtV1-npBJBQdAHQbV7ie4jqJ37qNR8lvGGiy_SPATn80aeVXnxYZa0EQKlP-kUu4ddoLEEQPf4pFaHulUIvgeF7pnPd6VUm2Khpk0hSb_Uyhaic2hdvWUgl4_cK7tR/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="300" data-original-width="454" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-oWFZ3DHtV1-npBJBQdAHQbV7ie4jqJ37qNR8lvGGiy_SPATn80aeVXnxYZa0EQKlP-kUu4ddoLEEQPf4pFaHulUIvgeF7pnPd6VUm2Khpk0hSb_Uyhaic2hdvWUgl4_cK7tR/s640/Unknown.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Grand Canal, Venice , 1898, Thomas Moran , Oil on Canvas </div>
Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-91022071933224958272020-07-29T12:57:00.000+01:002020-07-29T12:58:55.787+01:00Christ Crowned with Thorns<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-YQWC_3UbShGV4O99QFRvAlvJWdx84-B3-YWnh8AWjDfLZjyfNVSmkcfnf-A0C8t6-wa4h5M5irUgHLuv58YknxAArisrhktnRSWwh_kIiNSokLJ02VWSeVOxXcBjsM6Bmh_/s1600/cranach_crownofthorns_grt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="806" data-original-width="599" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb-YQWC_3UbShGV4O99QFRvAlvJWdx84-B3-YWnh8AWjDfLZjyfNVSmkcfnf-A0C8t6-wa4h5M5irUgHLuv58YknxAArisrhktnRSWwh_kIiNSokLJ02VWSeVOxXcBjsM6Bmh_/s640/cranach_crownofthorns_grt.jpg" width="473" /></a></div>
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Head of Christ with Crown of Thorns c1520, Lucas Cranach the Elder</div>
Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-22196952057396808652020-07-23T02:17:00.000+01:002020-07-23T02:17:57.202+01:00Nevermore<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwuUPfA8T5a9GpsQQKV_KR3VFbdq6510a2IdBiA8APCVVdotmJv73JbJEArt6pbbgEfZVslxnfdVqpJGlKGa7M9PFC55nq68Kuc0gstHKvP4OMzj6itavNkjClo77jkoXcn14/s1600/Paul_Gauguin_091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="657" data-original-width="1280" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFwuUPfA8T5a9GpsQQKV_KR3VFbdq6510a2IdBiA8APCVVdotmJv73JbJEArt6pbbgEfZVslxnfdVqpJGlKGa7M9PFC55nq68Kuc0gstHKvP4OMzj6itavNkjClo77jkoXcn14/s640/Paul_Gauguin_091.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Nevermore, Paul Gauguin, 1897</div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-85197060799218509272020-07-17T01:43:00.001+01:002020-07-17T01:43:28.143+01:00Man with a Pipe ( Self Portrait) <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji5r0oWUU_D1DHDMbOnBIJZ065LMFlAK26waB2F5t-COoBlv7t0uKO2nG1dnodb7US4JeiOuFEvawhOJKfFw-NzNhv40Q-NrKeHC9GKR81gtrhcvzpEQo6vCLn9bGS1jifSy3H/s1600/1A36DD76-3080-417F-9AFB-84D28FA4CF55.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="599" data-original-width="494" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji5r0oWUU_D1DHDMbOnBIJZ065LMFlAK26waB2F5t-COoBlv7t0uKO2nG1dnodb7US4JeiOuFEvawhOJKfFw-NzNhv40Q-NrKeHC9GKR81gtrhcvzpEQo6vCLn9bGS1jifSy3H/s320/1A36DD76-3080-417F-9AFB-84D28FA4CF55.jpeg" width="263" /></a></div>
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Man with a Pipe ( Self Portrait) Gustave Courbet, 1849</div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-2418649003060923042020-07-10T01:32:00.004+01:002020-07-10T01:32:53.967+01:00Charles Bridge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu9jn2TKDJ-15Ic2UivYzVaNwEEn5RD0Vp7zlQMudLVhsWzJ8VPhZvNrrn79Gq3EKJc9rGpjy9NDGZADbbkWOxygL6bDE6GpE5oNhASdG2uOpUtOP6y7YddMcS5geiWp5mGa10/s1600/not_detected_235891.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1229" data-original-width="1600" height="491" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu9jn2TKDJ-15Ic2UivYzVaNwEEn5RD0Vp7zlQMudLVhsWzJ8VPhZvNrrn79Gq3EKJc9rGpjy9NDGZADbbkWOxygL6bDE6GpE5oNhASdG2uOpUtOP6y7YddMcS5geiWp5mGa10/s640/not_detected_235891.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Charles Bridge, Prague, Oskar Kokoschka 1934</div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-85804622327571594142020-07-08T22:01:00.000+01:002020-07-08T22:01:02.897+01:00Zwei Wetterhexen (Two Witches)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpdQGWcf6pR9u-aeexv_Pmd4ImaJsEJ42VPqCbhVoZm6FPGenURcHXqCil_3f2dNnZsAfnbrY_UmhPEDSs5vyK-MN_-foRUArx2PSe0teQ0eyZ3XhQ5qpMgPE07ZDW0uViuQ5P/s1600/5cf43de5813540bd71646cd3b18773b4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="746" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpdQGWcf6pR9u-aeexv_Pmd4ImaJsEJ42VPqCbhVoZm6FPGenURcHXqCil_3f2dNnZsAfnbrY_UmhPEDSs5vyK-MN_-foRUArx2PSe0teQ0eyZ3XhQ5qpMgPE07ZDW0uViuQ5P/s640/5cf43de5813540bd71646cd3b18773b4.jpg" width="442" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(52, 57, 43); color: #34392b; font-family: Verdana; padding: 0px; text-align: -webkit-center;">Zwei Wetterhexen (Two Witches), </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(52, 57, 43); font-family: Verdana; text-align: -webkit-center;">1523, </span><span style="text-align: -webkit-center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(52, 57, 43);">Stadelches Kunstinstitut, Frankfurt, Hans Baldung Grien</span></span></span></span></div>
Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-76125384644576725312020-07-04T01:58:00.001+01:002020-07-04T01:58:11.326+01:00Squares with Concentric Circles<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiphLQkoNzjJsaMAE_l6Ez3L9GAmnW6nKMvFDzAzQ9Kiu0f2Q-0jNKLAa4HwtIouTTp-_d3-1jsPcKRf67gqhCbNFOGQYX2CWcRQDTeTe9sxkYhkP7NrIRF1eaYQE1D5aJ0BMDS/s1600/Vassily_Kandinsky%252C_1913_-_Color_Study%252C_Squares_with_Concentric_Circles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="796" height="481" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiphLQkoNzjJsaMAE_l6Ez3L9GAmnW6nKMvFDzAzQ9Kiu0f2Q-0jNKLAa4HwtIouTTp-_d3-1jsPcKRf67gqhCbNFOGQYX2CWcRQDTeTe9sxkYhkP7NrIRF1eaYQE1D5aJ0BMDS/s640/Vassily_Kandinsky%252C_1913_-_Color_Study%252C_Squares_with_Concentric_Circles.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Squares with Concentric Circles, 1913, Wassily Kandinsky</div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-47697579514442900332020-04-19T08:18:00.000+01:002020-04-19T08:18:30.221+01:00Self Portrait with Straw Hat <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6x0lgkhIg-8UpE_waxXU9p3zRYIgswFK1SthEuAv8p7PyJRn04gu7pYkXcMXP9zPQxkpTkJUu9czjwx5Oh6QLnYJWsqDjY-_XbgJQ0xCAl0pT7ob1Mef23BLvRUkMzmf630Nq/s1600/Vincent_van_Gogh_-_Zelfportret_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1296" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6x0lgkhIg-8UpE_waxXU9p3zRYIgswFK1SthEuAv8p7PyJRn04gu7pYkXcMXP9zPQxkpTkJUu9czjwx5Oh6QLnYJWsqDjY-_XbgJQ0xCAl0pT7ob1Mef23BLvRUkMzmf630Nq/s640/Vincent_van_Gogh_-_Zelfportret_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg" width="518" /></a></div>
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Self Portrait with Straw Hat , Summer 1887, Paris </div>
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Van Gogh Museum Amsterdam </div>
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( Oil on Canvas)</div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-74808903613878797622020-01-26T02:59:00.000+00:002020-01-26T02:59:06.827+00:00Miranda<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH1OGKwOpydtrPFzlj0HKhVC9YqiZgimJ3T3KDScH0u4-Hc184QEc5Gzp3JkppuRa7tB5Rk3Ai7aZwTO2a6g2vkdkOiTij4d4MoQOJ1jTCnXi1XZvHKfgw0CL36OAmV9Wqv9Ua/s1600/Miranda_-_The_Tempest_JWW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="738" data-original-width="1024" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH1OGKwOpydtrPFzlj0HKhVC9YqiZgimJ3T3KDScH0u4-Hc184QEc5Gzp3JkppuRa7tB5Rk3Ai7aZwTO2a6g2vkdkOiTij4d4MoQOJ1jTCnXi1XZvHKfgw0CL36OAmV9Wqv9Ua/s640/Miranda_-_The_Tempest_JWW.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Miranda ( The Tempest), John William Waterhouse </div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-22134053305541181622020-01-25T20:46:00.000+00:002020-01-25T20:52:55.787+00:00Lady of Shalott<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh03prXJD5BxmVsBu8wGI3My5IKXRg7UbCgD-5XHKNr3pBvCF5_g8-uK2FWlqCn2wbvWFc6kAgikDJ4BX8eSppQd21hfvXeGStxJ46phomRgaUXrzn10OhHpQZI7B26sIUOcDr/s1600/culture_1-dec_post.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="550" data-original-width="820" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh03prXJD5BxmVsBu8wGI3My5IKXRg7UbCgD-5XHKNr3pBvCF5_g8-uK2FWlqCn2wbvWFc6kAgikDJ4BX8eSppQd21hfvXeGStxJ46phomRgaUXrzn10OhHpQZI7B26sIUOcDr/s1600/culture_1-dec_post.jpg" /></a></div>
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<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
Part I</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
On either side the river lie<br />
Long fields of barley and of rye,<br />
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;<br />
And thro' the field the road runs by<br />
To many-tower'd Camelot;<br />
And up and down the people go,<br />
Gazing where the lilies blow<br />
Round an island there below,<br />
The island of Shalott.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,<br />
Little breezes dusk and shiver<br />
Thro' the wave that runs for ever<br />
By the island in the river<br />
Flowing down to Camelot.<br />
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,<br />
Overlook a space of flowers,<br />
And the silent isle imbowers<br />
The Lady of Shalott.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
By the margin, willow veil'd<br />
Slide the heavy barges trail'd<br />
By slow horses; and unhail'd<br />
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd<br />
Skimming down to Camelot:<br />
But who hath seen her wave her hand?<br />
Or at the casement seen her stand?<br />
Or is she known in all the land,<br />
The Lady of Shalott?</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
Only reapers, reaping early<br />
In among the bearded barley,<br />
Hear a song that echoes cheerly<br />
From the river winding clearly,<br />
Down to tower'd Camelot:<br />
And by the moon the reaper weary,<br />
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,<br />
Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy<br />
Lady of Shalott."</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
Part II</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
There she weaves by night and day<br />
A magic web with colours gay.<br />
She has heard a whisper say,<br />
A curse is on her if she stay<br />
To look down to Camelot.<br />
She knows not what the curse may be,<br />
And so she weaveth steadily,<br />
And little other care hath she,<br />
The Lady of Shalott.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
And moving thro' a mirror clear<br />
That hangs before her all the year,<br />
Shadows of the world appear.<br />
There she sees the highway near<br />
Winding down to Camelot:<br />
There the river eddy whirls,<br />
And there the surly village-churls,<br />
And the red cloaks of market girls,<br />
Pass onward from Shalott.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,<br />
An abbot on an ambling pad,<br />
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,<br />
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,<br />
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;<br />
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue<br />
The knights come riding two and two:<br />
She hath no loyal knight and true,<br />
The Lady of Shalott.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
But in her web she still delights<br />
To weave the mirror's magic sights,<br />
For often thro' the silent nights<br />
A funeral, with plumes and lights,<br />
And music, went to Camelot:<br />
Or when the moon was overhead,<br />
Came two young lovers lately wed;<br />
"I am half sick of shadows," said<br />
The Lady of Shalott.</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
Part III</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,<br />
He rode between the barley-sheaves,<br />
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,<br />
And flamed upon the brazen greaves<br />
Of bold Sir Lancelot.<br />
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd<br />
To a lady in his shield,<br />
That sparkled on the yellow field,<br />
Beside remote Shalott.</div>
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The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,<br />
Like to some branch of stars we see<br />
Hung in the golden Galaxy.<br />
The bridle bells rang merrily<br />
As he rode down to Camelot:<br />
And from his blazon'd baldric slung<br />
A mighty silver bugle hung,<br />
And as he rode his armour rung,<br />
Beside remote Shalott.</div>
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All in the blue unclouded weather<br />
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,<br />
The helmet and the helmet-feather<br />
Burn'd like one burning flame together,<br />
As he rode down to Camelot.<br />
As often thro' the purple night,<br />
Below the starry clusters bright,<br />
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,<br />
Moves over still Shalott.</div>
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His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;<br />
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;<br />
From underneath his helmet flow'd<br />
His coal-black curls as on he rode,<br />
As he rode down to Camelot.<br />
From the bank and from the river<br />
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,<br />
"Tirra lirra," by the river<br />
Sang Sir Lancelot.</div>
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She left the web, she left the loom,<br />
She made three paces thro' the room,<br />
She saw the water-lily bloom,<br />
She saw the helmet and the plume,<br />
She look'd down to Camelot.<br />
Out flew the web and floated wide;<br />
The mirror crack'd from side to side;<br />
"The curse is come upon me," cried<br />
The Lady of Shalott.</div>
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Part IV</div>
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In the stormy east-wind straining,<br />
The pale yellow woods were waning,<br />
The broad stream in his banks complaining,<br />
Heavily the low sky raining<br />
Over tower'd Camelot;<br />
Down she came and found a boat<br />
Beneath a willow left afloat,<br />
And round about the prow she wrote<br />
<em>The Lady of Shalott.</em></div>
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And down the river's dim expanse -<br />
Like some bold seer in a trance,<br />
Seeing all his own mischance -<br />
With a glassy countenance<br />
Did she look to Camelot.<br />
And at the closing of the day<br />
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;<br />
The broad stream bore her far away,<br />
The Lady of Shalott.</div>
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Lying, robed in snowy white<br />
That loosely flew to left and right -<br />
The leaves upon her falling light -<br />
Thro' the noises of the night<br />
She floated down to Camelot:<br />
And as the boat-head wound along<br />
The willowy hills and fields among,<br />
They heard her singing her last song.<br />
The Lady of Shalott.</div>
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Heard a carol, mournful, holy,<br />
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,<br />
Till her blood was frozen slowly,<br />
And her eyes were darken'd wholly,<br />
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.<br />
For ere she reach'd upon the tide<br />
The first house by the water-side,<br />
Singing in her song she died<br />
The Lady of Shalott.</div>
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Under tower and balcony,<br />
By garden-wall and gallery,<br />
A gleaming shape she floated by,<br />
Dead-pale between the houses high,<br />
Silent into Camelot.<br />
Out upon the wharfs they came,<br />
Knight and burgher, lord and dame.<br />
And round the prow they read her name,<br />
<em>The Lady of Shalott.</em></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
Who is this? and what is here?<br />
And in the lighted palace near<br />
Died the sound of royal cheer;<br />
And they cross'd themselves for fear,<br />
All the knights at Camelot:<br />
But Lancelot mused a little space;<br />
He said, "She has a lovely face;<br />
God in his mercy lend her grace.<br />
The Lady of Shalott."</div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(65, 72, 80); color: #414850; font-family: verdana, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; padding: 10px 0px;">
~Alfred, Lord Tennyson</div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-54597966915666307412019-06-20T07:58:00.000+01:002019-06-20T07:58:06.708+01:00At the Table<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7AAamBOKPkMCYcl4Q4N8vLePgDhWEKyT78gx-ozQhlyzHyhTktOrLnN9ii_F6pSMLSCNKW0KDJj8nXM-bVtKaRu2K6-FykTamAW_BCzuoL9-lplBAkDSB_itlppQ1i5F5TYpQ/s1600/filonov14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="571" data-original-width="650" height="562" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7AAamBOKPkMCYcl4Q4N8vLePgDhWEKyT78gx-ozQhlyzHyhTktOrLnN9ii_F6pSMLSCNKW0KDJj8nXM-bVtKaRu2K6-FykTamAW_BCzuoL9-lplBAkDSB_itlppQ1i5F5TYpQ/s640/filonov14.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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At the Table, Pavel Filonov 1912-13, St Petersburg, Russia</div>
Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-32308291070670157412019-04-17T09:07:00.003+01:002019-04-17T09:07:46.492+01:00Portrait of Ekaterina Balebina<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJ02__uowElf4cWaYB8C_LQ8b7yypTzIuAhDdvCPypOFQJ6-bz7DDSN59lTGpKHskRC12dAxw5KO3I1KoUg13R8cEyQ6Pxp-k1Y1hxg3iVDX2IudkBZR1ZuoY9gzkFvFYfdc3/s1600/7port31b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="625" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhJ02__uowElf4cWaYB8C_LQ8b7yypTzIuAhDdvCPypOFQJ6-bz7DDSN59lTGpKHskRC12dAxw5KO3I1KoUg13R8cEyQ6Pxp-k1Y1hxg3iVDX2IudkBZR1ZuoY9gzkFvFYfdc3/s1600/7port31b.jpg" /></a></div>
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Portrait of Ekaterina Balebina , Lev Alexandrovich Russov, 1956, Oil on Canvas</div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-18447959619596163182019-04-14T06:42:00.000+01:002019-04-14T06:42:00.216+01:00Indian Girl <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXBvFPbK-7f-Eq3ufZM0ErbzQ8TZf1XNk-azfYbYVA0HgqgE_EBFoapdoMIJYDrv9Der7JEaLErex2xYiea9cZlWepAn-9jqjo4gal0WRDB53M2HF2lYOH7sOZmdXo1wYUAkjN/s1600/7port28b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="638" data-original-width="900" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXBvFPbK-7f-Eq3ufZM0ErbzQ8TZf1XNk-azfYbYVA0HgqgE_EBFoapdoMIJYDrv9Der7JEaLErex2xYiea9cZlWepAn-9jqjo4gal0WRDB53M2HF2lYOH7sOZmdXo1wYUAkjN/s1600/7port28b.jpg" /></a></div>
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Indian Girl, Lev Russov, 1957, Oil on Canvas </div>
Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-73829944447525428302019-04-13T10:49:00.003+01:002019-04-13T10:49:57.744+01:00Standing by the Rags<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz03grD_WqW_rNtPbu7TJ7oj2bA-Ui3HnV5JdLnAT5k5lsEBU6-NHlU8Pv6cpFHfRVV442yYcRBhTBm7NRLjyVuGKoj_xvEw34Ez72R_Bl8lsyQenxPDFBMBW8ARiFShoPy9wk/s1600/lucian-freud-standing-by-the-rags.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz03grD_WqW_rNtPbu7TJ7oj2bA-Ui3HnV5JdLnAT5k5lsEBU6-NHlU8Pv6cpFHfRVV442yYcRBhTBm7NRLjyVuGKoj_xvEw34Ez72R_Bl8lsyQenxPDFBMBW8ARiFShoPy9wk/s1600/lucian-freud-standing-by-the-rags.jpg" /></a></div>
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Standing by the Rags, Lucian Freud, 1989</div>
Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-71129296492929058262019-04-11T14:37:00.000+01:002019-04-11T14:37:11.462+01:00The Wolf of Gubbio, Sassetta<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__9Ujup_zE5H5d6e4Svy_LLB2z9LLnxLON4TnwMsdmwf6IoRD1UpgJftI2gDwqgQqevgBKEBR5zWpfgwx0-IlEOezZq4JdF5-p85NcsTDRVyucNMywdAHIfRqfoF5VXopuwFW/s1600/N-4762-00-000023-wpu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="487" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi__9Ujup_zE5H5d6e4Svy_LLB2z9LLnxLON4TnwMsdmwf6IoRD1UpgJftI2gDwqgQqevgBKEBR5zWpfgwx0-IlEOezZq4JdF5-p85NcsTDRVyucNMywdAHIfRqfoF5VXopuwFW/s1600/N-4762-00-000023-wpu.jpg" /></a></div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-86588801466932493502018-04-05T02:00:00.000+01:002018-04-05T02:00:08.997+01:00Woman Combing her Hair <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNChwOShuSh_9hWSveZtQ8mt57GWJMs8K2eeZgC-Xw-fk38qpXIerL0qAT-zsNe7OZEehBkWQfVcXwlvh0F_UxVm_0kOdVntr0gYIXzD-FQH-pvSjuPgHgvlK47pU89vSUzFHn/s1600/Woman-Combing-her-Hair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="745" data-original-width="724" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNChwOShuSh_9hWSveZtQ8mt57GWJMs8K2eeZgC-Xw-fk38qpXIerL0qAT-zsNe7OZEehBkWQfVcXwlvh0F_UxVm_0kOdVntr0gYIXzD-FQH-pvSjuPgHgvlK47pU89vSUzFHn/s640/Woman-Combing-her-Hair.jpg" width="621" /></a></div>
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Woman Combing her Hair, Edgar Degas, 1885</div>
Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-11361846317008324382017-12-01T08:33:00.000+00:002017-12-01T08:33:38.088+00:00Benois Madonna<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nhFekNaY0zurGEwBNZuycdhayjADw6XyzWhqUprsZhHG9Ssz1xaeLYE1C76WPRQJGnJ_WuQr4pAu4cQGakLbetYyNDU8t7G1FK5i3OX2mpOABeQALvWN_R_UgWrwRINo20AK/s1600/Madonna_benois_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1255" data-original-width="823" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9nhFekNaY0zurGEwBNZuycdhayjADw6XyzWhqUprsZhHG9Ssz1xaeLYE1C76WPRQJGnJ_WuQr4pAu4cQGakLbetYyNDU8t7G1FK5i3OX2mpOABeQALvWN_R_UgWrwRINo20AK/s640/Madonna_benois_01.jpg" width="418" /></a></div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-92227600926348282282017-11-24T06:46:00.001+00:002017-11-24T06:47:01.672+00:00Salvator Mundi<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_8dt6hoCT3cX4VINU9l_iNv_Omwmq00eC2qIfTN1NIZj8Uv4GtMT-iN3y6doyqVYtLqR0ZCUdgkdMh1K37lSSmCbPD1bZCmxf2XGYkTAWGF0l8o5wGlHy10TC26EPSkhr68b/s1600/1200px-Leonardo_da_Vinci%252C_Salvator_Mundi%252C_c.1500%252C_oil_on_walnut%252C_45.4_%25C3%2597_65.6_cm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1088" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy_8dt6hoCT3cX4VINU9l_iNv_Omwmq00eC2qIfTN1NIZj8Uv4GtMT-iN3y6doyqVYtLqR0ZCUdgkdMh1K37lSSmCbPD1bZCmxf2XGYkTAWGF0l8o5wGlHy10TC26EPSkhr68b/s640/1200px-Leonardo_da_Vinci%252C_Salvator_Mundi%252C_c.1500%252C_oil_on_walnut%252C_45.4_%25C3%2597_65.6_cm.jpg" width="434" /></a></div>
Salvator Mundi, 1500, Renaissance, Leonardo Da Vinci, Portrait, Oil on Walnut</div>
Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-48988648417791547542017-11-07T12:21:00.000+00:002017-11-24T07:53:35.692+00:00Christina's World<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWEBUf04VAEn3_OLQY6p9xp9F-qr_nZlVBftenIKP_qMKQt_7dJ578h7UUUA-O85aOSZ_j-GMPTHvi1SFZCF9MoNv7VyiPf-6ODiFjOC-Mqk6K_TmKLhyphenhyphen874x0JJKgfHlD1vhM/s1600/Wyeth-web2.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="430" data-original-width="643" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWEBUf04VAEn3_OLQY6p9xp9F-qr_nZlVBftenIKP_qMKQt_7dJ578h7UUUA-O85aOSZ_j-GMPTHvi1SFZCF9MoNv7VyiPf-6ODiFjOC-Mqk6K_TmKLhyphenhyphen874x0JJKgfHlD1vhM/s1600/Wyeth-web2.jpg" /></a></div>
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Christina's World, 1948, Andrew Wyeth<br />
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-42751549350763226012017-10-29T09:26:00.000+00:002017-10-29T09:26:39.549+00:00Gare Montparnasse /The Melancholy of Departure<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizHxL3pLCrGUpLVFG_laS69gM-1s8raow-4twZwPutqCvep24oaaPuW-r662ltpTDqQZI2-Pz4GHueGqsJgDC9lSlT5SQCZmayAx92nqcwCGqkK94IW32cVU85fMCTVro8yu-o/s1600/Gare_Montparnasse_%2528The_Melancholy_of_Departure%2529_by_Giorgio_de_Chirico.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="272" data-original-width="366" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizHxL3pLCrGUpLVFG_laS69gM-1s8raow-4twZwPutqCvep24oaaPuW-r662ltpTDqQZI2-Pz4GHueGqsJgDC9lSlT5SQCZmayAx92nqcwCGqkK94IW32cVU85fMCTVro8yu-o/s400/Gare_Montparnasse_%2528The_Melancholy_of_Departure%2529_by_Giorgio_de_Chirico.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Gare Montparnasse (The Melancholy of Departure), Giorgio de Chirico</span></div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-66526269192893943772017-10-07T21:09:00.000+01:002017-10-07T21:09:32.355+01:00Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUJocZe7GVT_BWEhoPn1dwFfY9k0CY1MXSk1_nUHpE_d4QSzBajUSImaGSiiVvMFKEl8P6mF7z_dDPBr6wzcZQD0Syoztmp3RSvaZLxDo-qoXlUQy9iUcJX53V22mk4-oEDVgf/s1600/self-portrait-with-necklace-of-thorns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="615" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUJocZe7GVT_BWEhoPn1dwFfY9k0CY1MXSk1_nUHpE_d4QSzBajUSImaGSiiVvMFKEl8P6mF7z_dDPBr6wzcZQD0Syoztmp3RSvaZLxDo-qoXlUQy9iUcJX53V22mk4-oEDVgf/s1600/self-portrait-with-necklace-of-thorns.jpg" /></a></div>
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Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird, Frida Kahlo, 1940</div>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-69986122712091993732017-03-30T00:54:00.000+01:002017-03-30T02:42:02.343+01:00Portrait of Marie Marcoz<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NDciWQGR3peE3wRbnLaUMwHxzwPF_EglNA1zbi_FOFz5WI4JAfq1-ePV7i3oU3xwkzBHEEgYNgdjCUK6Z6lfwgS6Wd5jHP-9inrODtq4pqONHFcAzlENL2NRsveBj70-gXLb/s1600/Alternative_colors.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9NDciWQGR3peE3wRbnLaUMwHxzwPF_EglNA1zbi_FOFz5WI4JAfq1-ePV7i3oU3xwkzBHEEgYNgdjCUK6Z6lfwgS6Wd5jHP-9inrODtq4pqONHFcAzlENL2NRsveBj70-gXLb/s640/Alternative_colors.jpg" width="500" /></a></div>
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Portrait of Marie Marcoz, ( later Vicomtesse de Sennones) by Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres,<br />
Oil on Canvas, Musee de Beaux Arts, Nantes </div>
Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30738040.post-68420028257235176522017-03-28T00:40:00.000+01:002017-03-28T00:40:40.375+01:00Portrait of a Young Girl <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Portrait of a Young Girl, Petrus Christus, 1468-1470, in </div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Gemäldegalerie, Berlin</span></h1>
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Sunilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15802086213127984513noreply@blogger.com0