In love again

"Everything we see disperses and vanishes, doesn't it? Nature is always the same, but nothing remains of it, of what we see. Our art has to inspire a feeling of permanence while still showing the elements of all its changes. It has to make us sense it as eternal."

I am reading Paul Cézanne's letters.
A small book, very small, published in 1942.

I have decided to let the Cézanne paper be a somewhat "pure" dialogue between the master's own words (and works) on one side and cognitive and perceptive theory on the other.
This way I will be able to focus on the subject, which is first and foremost neuro aesthetics, and I will not be tempted to touch upon the subject of cubism.
I'm so thrilled to be thrilled about a paper again.
And happy.

"They like having their portraits painted. It's as though they sought your forgiveness for becoming discoloured. Their essence is emitted with their perfume. They come to you in all their odours, speaking to you of the fields they've left behind, of the rain that's nourished them, of the dawns they've witnessed. In defining with fleshy touches the skin of a beautiful peach or the melancholy of an old apple, I glimpse in the reflections that they exchange the same tepid shadow of renunciation, the same love of the sun, the same recollection of dew, a freshness."
And this was the man they called Le Sauvage
"Still Life with Curtain and Flowered Pitcher", c. 1899, Oil on canvas, 54.7 x 74 cm, The Hermitage Museum, Leningrad, Venturi 731