Marc Chagall

24 12 2014

Village life. Love. A surreal God. Who fills life with a robust and spirited ale. Optimism. A world open to the Good. Immune to the hostile outside world in Russia. And the coming storm in Europe. It is as if he were a prisoner of his love. Blinded by a life that no longer existed. And without the help of friends and strangers he might have been a victim of that love. In some ways he was a glorious fool.

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