A woman within a canvas

My words of a woman, portraying them with artwork, this is slightly how i see women, women in my life, from my past and present and future.(with pictures to help)I wrote this more then a year ago.

    A woman is a canvas, within the eyes she can be a priceless beauty just by sight. Her lips can be the color of watercolor rose against smooth delicate lips, like the lips of Mona Lisa. A woman can grab your sight and make everything around her blurred like the blur of Claude Monet paints of ponds and water lilies when he started to loose his sight. Not only by the eye may this canvas be beautiful but also by the mind. Her mind can wander like the painting Starry night, brilliant and beautiful all within. Her mind also just full of dots of memories and thoughts like the painting Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. She can be like a sunset in Venice, her fears can be scattered within the sky of purple and gold, waiting for the night to come aboard. She can make your stomach be like the landscape of butterflies and make your mind go to the olive grove. Yet within a woman there is mystery, not yet a map can settle upon her, for Columbus has not set sail to completely understand. She can be a blue dancer, or plainly the birth of Venus within her, and then blossom into a sunflower looking towards the sun. You can lay speechless when the sun hits her face; she is as beautiful as the Leonardo Da Vinci La Scapigliata. And when the shadows are cast upon her body she is the blue nude, her body bare and beautiful, she shivers with a slight fragileness to her, her back turned to you, you might just fall deeply in love with her canvas body. Even when you fall in love, you take her moods, her happiness and her anger; she can put you Under the Wave of Kanagawa at a moment or put you into the world of Midsummer Eve. She can give you dreams of being hand in hand walking down the path of the Viale Del Giardino or over the bridge of Le Pont Japonais a Giverny. Yet she holds within her a mystery like all women she holds it deep inside her, and if you try to understand you might end up lost in a place like M. C. Escher Relativity, but if you have patience she might show you her mystery, not entirely but she may show you her map, open a window from inside. Show you how to get through the curtain of Almond Blossoms, to stare at a waterfall that never ends, for her beauty, mind, and love goes on forever without an end. She may give you the privilege to lie down and look into her eyes and watch her Starry Night, her sunrise and her sunsets, her dreams and fears and pleasures. And when she does this, she becomes slightly vulnerable within your presents, and inside she thinks you will take advantage, prove her wrong, make her feel like the painting kiss, when you give yourself to her and give her the same vulnerability of yourself. Yet within the dreams of walking hand in hand, her bare back to you, butterfly wings fluttering, and the waves and sunsets, you and she will be within Christina’s World for you will never know what will happen, a mystery of laying in the field of chaos and possibilities, or walk hand in hand to the house and live happily together within each others arms, only straying into the field together, for there shall always be possibilities but possibilities of togetherness. A woman is yet in the end just a self portrait.

 

 

Mona Lisa.

 

Monet blurry

 

Starry Night

 

Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande

 

Sunset of Venice

 

landscape of butterflies

 

Olive Grove

 

Blue Dancers

 

Birth of Venus

 

Sunflower

 

 

La Scapigliata.

 

Blue Nude

 

Under the Wave of Kanagawa

 

Midsummer Eve

 

Viale Del Giardino

 

 

Le Pont Japonais a Giverny

 

Relativity

 

Almond Blossoms

 

Waterfall

 

Kiss

 

Christina's World-favorite painting.