Art Explained - The Cell
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The Cell Of The Blessed Angelico
˜”°•.˜”°• They say this, state that
Whatever it is, it's made up
I didn't invent a new style
I paint this way because
I'm long-sighted •°”˜.•°”˜
When father said
My son, you will become a monk, the money has run out, you should have been born as the eldest, I thought: dirty drunkard and womanizer.
My eldest brother grinned and my three sisters were sobbing. One was married off, handed over to a barbarian and the other two were able to give up their childhood to become part of Jesus' harem.
Angelico, what should we do?
Father, he had shown us the door and mother had kept silent. She meekly folded her hands, looked at the tabletop and pretended to pray for our souls. Why did she act like we were the bad guys, she married that worthless bastard and gave birth to us.
It'll be okay, I whispered, don't be afraid, I'll make sure we make it without that couple.
Somewhat reassured, they followed me to my room.
Look what I created.
The faces of my two sisters hung above my painting.
Brother, one dared to say, it is a spotty unclear whole, are you sure...
It's art. When it comes to art, everything is allowed. Don't you believe me? Just wait, I'll soon be famous, have my own painting school and we'll be out of here.
Father wasted no time
The next day we were delivered to the monastery. After a nutritious meal and a small gift to the abbot, he got rid of the three of us.
Take courage, I shouted as my two sisters were taken away by a bunch of grumpy nuns, I'll find you, don't forget me!
![](https://cdn.rcimg.net/wakeupkitty/f10cbd73/093481902eec41f4925f74a6f18344c6.jpg?width=300&quality=10&blur=20)
La cella del Beati Angelico (1880) - Francesco Filippini
I paint from my cell
It is larger than the ones of the other monks. My paintings are loved, they are often bought, but I do not receive money for my work.
With every stroke of my brush, I think of my two crying sisters, the children to whom I called: I'll find you, everything will be alright, don't forget me!
I hope they see my paintings and know that not a day goes by I think of them. What you see in my paintings is not the result of the dark but how I see the world with tears in my eyes.
Header/Photogrid: Canva
Picture: public domain
9-5-2024
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