I should like to end this awful week with some stupid paintings. Like the one above, the first I saw in this "artist's" "oeuvre," The Reluctant Bride, and I must say, "Auguste" "Toulmouche" nailed his title to that pitcher, no? Heh-heh-heh-heh.
Auguste was of that "school" in painting known as "academic," the "school" that birthed the world Birth of Venus
I had not acquainted myself with the "art" of Monsieur Toulmouche before today.-Or-If I did I used my powers of forgetting.
M. Toulmouche narrowed his subject matter to hone his painterly skill yet finer.
The Letter
"Oh!"
Break-up letter-Or-marriage proposal, we cannot be sure owing to the condition of the Mme in The Reluctant Bride but we notice at once the same subject, a beauteous virgin of aristocratic up-bringing in her private chamber. With an absurdly cinched waist. Rendered in the understated manner of the "school."
Auguste really narrowed his interests for here we have, The Love Letter.
And if we look closely, and we done-did, we notice a Mona Lisa-like smile, just the hint of a smile, she's pleased! Maybe as her wedding date nears she will acquire the mien of the chick in The Reluctant Bride but now that we compare these three "works," maybe the houri in The Letter got some really bad news, like her fella was just killed in the war or something we don't know. And we notice the absurdly-high waist.
An Elegant Beauty Absurdly Petting a Pigeon.
Just makes you want to puke.
The Admiring Glance, we're now gonna run through these before we lose our dinner.
La Toilette, which is where I be headin'.
Young Woman in an Interior-Or-My Feelings Exactly.
And we'll wrap this up with Young Woman Preparing for Anal.
Oh, Auguste, you are Too Much Toulmouche. Tanks fer da laffs anywho.
