" . . . There was no world, there was no land. . . Everywhere
was fog, soft breezes & no clouds. No shadows where
Modigliani could hide. So, he painted & he sculpted for
himself . . . someone said: "Listen, can you hear crickets singing?"
But there were no crickets then singing in Paris. . . so people all went to
work & they forgot about Modigliani. In some places, they said he had gone
elsewhere __ no one really knew? The next morning when people
woke up, it was another time. Clouds had lifted over the Eiffel Tower.
But we heard that it had rained over Montparnasse & the Seine looked gray.
All day."
words & digigraphie photograph : (c) 2010 blt
