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Description
Gallery Note
Madames Rouge and Blanc sat suspended in their web of gossip and coffee cups, entangled in a conversation that may well have begun in the previous century. Each received the news with the practiced shock of someone who has toasted both triumph and tragedy—often at the same table. Somewhere below, the leaves wilted with exquisite restraint, and the air carried the faint aroma of coffee, recently uncovered secrets, and something unidentifiably fermented. The moment occurred, as it always did—elegantly, improbably, and with remarkable style.
Artist Inspiration
Madame Rouge sat tall in a chair made of thread, With vines that drooped like they might soon be dead.
She sipped her black coffee with venomous grace,A veil of old scandal half-draped on her face.
by Paul Reeb Artist
Description
Gallery Note
Madames Rouge and Blanc sat suspended in their web of gossip and coffee cups, entangled in a conversation that may well have begun in the previous century. Each received the news with the practiced shock of someone who has toasted both triumph and tragedy—often at the same table. Somewhere below, the leaves wilted with exquisite restraint, and the air carried the faint aroma of coffee, recently uncovered secrets, and something unidentifiably fermented. The moment occurred, as it always did—elegantly, improbably, and with remarkable style.
Artist Inspiration
Madame Rouge sat tall in a chair made of thread, With vines that drooped like they might soon be dead.
She sipped her black coffee with venomous grace,
A veil of old scandal half-draped on her face.
by Paul Reeb Artist