The words written around him with a fountain pen are a short poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley:
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the belovèd's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the belovèd's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
4 comments:
Love this, thank you for sharing! How did you decide what to write with this? Is it a poem you were thinking about at the time, or do you seek it out to pair with the piece?
Love this, thank you for sharing. How did you decide what to write with this? Is it a poem you were thinking about at the time, or do you seek it out to pair with the piece? I write quotes and song by my sketches, and it's cool to see how other artists are inspired.
G, I just thought about how, when we're alone, we're often living in a bubble of our memories, and that poem sprung to mind. It was short enough to fit in a circle around the man, as if enclosing him in his own thoughts.
I always wait for the moment when James shows the painting to the "models"...
Thanks, Master.
Paulo-Rio
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