Today is my birthday. My sister posted me this video which captures my sentiments today. I've been sung a new song, sent a poem, greeted with red wine and chocolates, called by old friends. Now I'm gonna retire with my overdue library book, The Yellow House, and think on painting. The author is marvelous at describing the details of method applied by Van Gogh and Gauguin, and I haven't found a review on the book yet that mentions this as the main joy of the read. Truly it is, the only disappointment being I've sent myself running to other books on my shelf that include colour images of the numerous works that appear only in black & white among the chapters of this novel, despite Martin Gayford's lucid descriptions. Again, nothing tells it like the real painting; but a great writer can at least entice you to yearn to taste the fruit itself.
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