The other night I was back, drawn by the magnetic eyes of Paul Guillaume, as in a dream.

I stayed a long time there, in front of him, trying to penetrate the  Modigliani’s mind when  painting  the portrait

 

 

 

 

 I know, that this look is not unique but I like to believe that an eye is open to the surrounding world and the other,  apparently blind, in a poetic way, is facing his inner world.

 

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