But faces really get me.
A good artist somehow, through two or three dimensional media, presents us with
an added inscrutable dimension of soul and personality and history.
And we find ourselves thinking that we know someone who looks just like the face looking back from the creation,
or we think we know what they are thinking,
or most poignant of all–
"I wish I knew that person."
Please let me introduce you to some of my favorite folks at the museum.
Wrinkles and gray hair don't show the ruthless vandalizing of age. The dulling of eyes which have seen everything under the sun and welcome the blurring obscurity, the thinning of lips held tight, waiting to share wisdom but refusing to quaver with fear or weakness. This is how one paints age.
Whoever he is, he exemplifies the 'noble' in nobleman.
And oh, how I wish I knew the little Bavarian Peasant Girl who sat glowering at vonLenbach as he was no doubt keeping her from more pleasant pursuits. Some day I want a granddaughter who looks like this. But I never want her to look at me in the same way she is looking at the artist.