June 28th, 2020


[info]ashenwings
[info]schrecknet

[info]ashenwings
[info]schrecknet

[No Subject]


[info]ashenwings
[info]schrecknet
I must speak, for a moment, on Zdzisław Beksiński. What a tragic figure of the art world and a tormented genius - though I suppose, are they not all? Untrained but passionate, fueled by music and unable to stand the desolation of silence. Quoted as saying "I wish to paint in such a manner as if I were photographing dreams," he believed the almost horrifying depictions of unusual landscapes and skeletal bodies were actually hopeful, uplifting, humorous. I do not know if I agree but art is, of course, in the eye of the beholder and Master Beksiński would agree as he cared not for interpretations - even from himself.

It is quite a bold statement in the art world to dismiss interpretation as vehemently as he did, to dislike it so much that one would refuse to hear a single word of it but I tend to enjoy this. Art simply does not have to mean anything at all and those that cannot accept this fact will be miserable until the day they die. As the kids say, that is my hot take. Do not "at" me.

His was a tragic end as they so often are. His wife passed on followed closely by his son in a true tragedy. As if that was not enough, he was then murdered in his own home by a foolish child in an act of rage.

And I am obsessed. I have been since I discovered his works in the mid-90s. Although I have seen them all so many times, I have never lost my interest in his unusual use of line and striking colors. I shall now share some of my favorites ending with my absolute favorite.

OOC: Maybe be a bit disturbing to some. )