Art Imitating Life

Years ago, I saw this painting and fell in love with it.  The colors – the vibrancy of the colors – but the subject.  The kiss is definitely one of love – intimate love – a passionate one that only can come from intimacy.  When I came across this image a few weeks ago, I felt it….not just loved it – but felt it deep inside me.  I understood it – his hand on her neck the way it is – their connection – that kiss.

The Kiss by Gustav Klimt
The Kiss by Gustav Klimt

While looking for something yesterday, I came across this one……and I felt this one too.  For a whole different set of reasons….

Freya's Tears by Gustav Klimt
Freya’s Tears by Gustav Klimt

I told G today that I feel like an idiot – for feeling like I do – for caring like I do.  I don’t know why I chastise myself like that – but I’m guessing it’s because I hate feeling weak.  I wish for a time in the past where there was a wall people stayed on one side of – and I could keep all of this shit on the other side.  It felt safer. It kept me from understanding that painting. But the right people tore through that wall –

So now  I can’t.
I worry.
I feel.
I love.
I care.
I fret.
I support.
I love.
I feel you and I feel me.
And at times, those feels leak from my eyes.

It’s who I am.

On one hand, I accept that is who I am.
On the other hand, I wish I could shut it off.

But then I wouldn’t be me.

Not that it matters…..

…….thus the conundrum.

What do you think?