This is not the Monet they put on tote bags. This is fast. Almost angry.
His wife is dying. He has no money. The art world forgot about him. And he's standing in a garden painting apple trees like his hand can't stop.
That feeling when you clean your entire house at 2am because your brain won't shut up? That's this painting. Beauty as survival mode.
The tree doesn't know any of this. The tree is just blooming. That's what makes it worse.
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