arthipstory

Left: Me towards everyone after two glasses of champs.

Right: Me when I remember there’s Halloween funfetti at home.

Also, how much does Max Beckmann look like Michael Keaton here?

Max Beckmann, if you want me to believe “horn” is your musical instrument, then STOP STARING THROUGH IT LIKE A CREEP.

Like I’m even listening to this nonsense…

Manet’s The Reading presents his wife Suzanne half-listening to her son reading. Girlfriend looks bored as can be.

This would be me, listening to my mother read aloud my finances. She’d probably just scroll through my checking account, crying, “Why, God, why!?” to every transaction made online to J.Crew.

Mom, you can’t curse a flash sale!

I plan on eating cantaloupe/more fruit this week, and you can guarantee I’m going to be using an absolute MACHETE to open it. Just to show off my general disdain for dieting.

I don’t know about you, but I frequently hope for heirs to a cognac fortune to hold my crap while at the theater Anthropologie.

However, James Whistler’s forgetting my preference of several more gentlemen rushing to my every need, and looking MUCH HAPPIER about it.

Nice try, Theodore Duret! Strong eyebrow, though.

(Whistler exhibited this work at the 1885 Salon, where it was hailed as one of the strongest portraits of Duret. I totally agree; he looks way hotter looking inconvenienced by a broad than standing both shadowed and bespectacled.)

It is a sensational moment when you can dress to match the furniture.

Frederick Carl Frieseke’s Afternoon suggests a moment of leisure. Similar to his contemporary Mary Cassatt, Frieseke was born in the United States, but spent most his life painting abroad. Frieseke took pride in working directly on canvas without loose sketches, and is most known for his paintings of women.

Ah yes, I also sit back in relaxing isolation as I calmly plot the words I plan to use when responding to, “plans tonite?”

I’m just sitting around contemplating deep things like, “Who made the weekend go away?”

Manet’s The Dead Matador is, in fact, a reworked image from a larger composition. Manet got all ticked off because he received a bunch of negative reviews from the Salon. (Some people compared the bull in the background to a mouse because the dude was so large and looming in the foreground.) So, what any normal guy would do, Manet cut the damn canvas and drastically reworked the dead matador and the bullfight into two separate works.

Nice. Because you know what? There’s really nothing more special than burning a bridge, only to build two new ones…very similar to my dating persona lately.

WHERE IS VICTOR JACQUEMONT IRL?!

Good God Almighty, I’m into just about every thing about this man. The style, the facial hair, the dog?!

I’m telling you, I’LL EVEN TAKE THE PARASOL.

Monet, hook a girl uppppp.

“Yeah, sorry, wish I could…but I’m busy tonight.”