goya's dog


Francisco Goya’s Black Paintings

1. Saturn Devouring his Son, 1819-23, oil mural transferred to canvas, 143 x 81 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid. Source

2. The Dog, 1819-23, oil mural transferred to canvas, 131.5 x 79.3 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid. Source

3. Two Old Men Eating Soup, 1819-23, oil mural transferred to canvas, 49.3 x 83.4 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid. Source

4. Judith and Holofernes, 1819-23, oil mural transferred to canvas, 143.5 x 81.4 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid. Source

5. Two Old Men, 1819-23, oil mural transferred to canvas, 146 x 66 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid. Source

6. The Fates, 1819-23, oil mural transferred to canvas, 123 x 266 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid. Source

7. Fight with Cudgels, 1819-23, oil mural transferred to canvas, 123 x 266 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid. Source

8. Witches’ Sabbath, 1819-23, oil mural transferred to canvas, 140 x 438 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid. Source

9. Fantastic Vision, 1819-23, oil mural transferred to canvas, 125.4 x 65.4 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid. Source

10. Man Mocked by Two Women, 1819-23, oil mural transferred to canvas, 125.4 x 65.4 cm, Museo del Prado, Madrid. Source

Here is a selection of works from Goya’s famous ‘Black Paintings’ series, which consists of fourteen murals that were painted directly onto the walls of the Quinta del Sordo house in Madrid, where the artist lived between 1819 and 1823. They have since been removed, transferred to canvases, and become part of the Museo del Prado’s collection.

The series is pretty dark, to say the least. It is rife with themes of witchcraft, insanity, violence and death’s inevitability. My personal favourite is Saturn Devouring his Son, which is based on the story of Saturn’s Greek counterpart, Cronus, and how he ate his sons after hearing that they would eventually overthrow him. However, Saturn/Cronus was tricked by Rhea into swallowing a stone instead of one of his children. This son, of whom Rhea was the mother, was Zeus, and he would eventually have Cronus and the other titans imprisoned. Goya’s depiction is deliciously gory and terrifying. Saturn’s face is enough to give you nightmares!


Notable depictions of dogs in art, featuring:

Daido Moriyama, Stray Dog, Misawa, Aomori, 1971, 23 x 34 cm
Francisco Goya, The Half-Submerged Dog, ca. 1819-23,  131 x 79 cm
Michelangelo Pistoletto, Violet Dog, 1968, painted tissue paper on stainless steel, 225 x 115 cm
Lady Clementina Hawarden, Dog balancing on two chairs, ca. 1861, albumen print from wet collodion on glass negative, 9.7 x 7.5cm
William Merritt Chase, Alice Dieudonnee Chase with Russian Wolfhound, ca. 1903, oil on canvas, 156 x 131 cm
Nam June Paik, Watchdog II, 1997, televisions, electronics, 2-channel video, aluminum, 138 x 156 x 43 cm
Jeff Koons, Balloon Dog (Orange), 1994-2000, mirror-polished stainless steel with transparent color coating, 121 x 143 x 45 in
George Stubbs, The Pointer, ca. 1766, oil on canvas, 61 x 70 cm
Giacomo Balla, Dynamism of a Dog on a Leash, 1912, oil on canvas, 96 x 116 cm
Jean-Michel Basquiat, Boy and dog in a Johnnypump, 1982, acrylic, crayon, spray paint, canvas, 421 x 240 cm

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anonymous asked:

Hi beautiful! Which ones are your favorites paintings, Books or short poems, ways to spend the day? 💛💛💛💛

 a brief list, because I could talk about each for entire afternoons…

Olympia, Eduard Manet
The Drowing Dog, Francisco Goya
Saint George and the Dragon, Raphael
Dream of the Fishermans Wife, Hokusai
St. George & the Dragon, Briton Riviera
The Virgin, Gustav Klimt
Fayum Mummy Portraits
Portrait of Édouard Manet,Henri Fantin-Latour
Wall of Horses, Chauvet Caves
Die grossen blauen Pferde (The Large Blue Horses), Franz Marc
The First Part of the Return from Parnassus, Cy Twombly
La Gitana Tropical, Victor Manuel Garcia
Mary with the Child and Singing Angels, Sandro Botticelli
Zen Master and a Tiger, Shi K’o
Ophelia, John Everett Millias
Lady Godiva, James Collier

Short Poems
A Crazed Girl, William Butler Yeats
But I sleep Alone, Sappho
To the Poem, Adonis
En el café, Evaristo Carriego
“Not Honey” Hymen, H.D.
Marina of the Rocks, Odysseus Elytis
A Dream of Winter, Arthur Rimbaud
A Community of the Spirit, Rumi
In The Summer, Nizar Qabbani
Sunday Morning, Wallace Stevens
Witch Wife, Edna St. Vincent Millay
Fable of the Mermaids and the Drunks, Pablo Neruda
La Casada Infiel, Federico Garcia Lorca
Venus Anadyomene, Arthur Rimbaud
The Mermaid, William Butler Yeats
Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare Longam, Ernest Dowson
The Pedigree of Honey, Emily Dickinson

Ways to spend a day 

Bake decadent desserts
giant strawberry merengue cake
ancient russian honey cookies
Irish Vanilla raspberry cream cake
Lavender shortcake
Prinsesstårta(Swedish Princess cake)

Read Rilke in the bath
Rilke letters 1892-1910
dried roses and lavender bath bombs
ancient bath recipes 
lavender milk bath

Make pottery 
Collect red Clay in your backyard
Making clay in your kitchen
build a potters wheel
Fire your own pottery

Watch nature documentaries
The Amazon
Wild Sri Lanka- Forest of Clouds 
The Balkans 
Arctic Kingdom 

off shoulder peasant dress
cotton shorts

find your local swimming hole (and keep it secret!)

Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes The Dog
Museo del Prado, Madrid

(The Dog is one of the Black Paintings Goya painted directly onto the walls of his house between 1819 and 1823)

Good Morning, Mae.

I still feel the pain of losing Goya. During the time I was taking her daily pictures I had no idea I was recording a chronological countdown I didn’t know about, and now those pictures, and a scattered few, are all I have. 

I have that one picture, of her smiling in the veterinary kennel, still in my phone as the last time I would see her. As the last picture I would ever take of her. That’s it. After that one picture there is no more Goya. I have so many others further down, just thumbnails after thumbnails of specks of gold that was her fur, almost all the way to the beginning of the gallery. But after that one photo… Gone.

It still hurts to see those photos. Just memories. And I try very hard to remember how it felt to touch her fur, how soft it was, curling the silken strands between my fingers and playing with it idly as we sat on the couch together while watching movies or laying in bed just before sleep. I try to remember how she ran, how the barked, how she perked up her head and ears when something curious got her attention. To remember her sounds when she got excited and her chatty whines. 

I miss them. I miss her. 

I know Goya will be that one dog I will never forget. She will always be a most special creature that has brought joy and light to my heart. Our bond is strong, even in death. 

Sometimes I still catch myself saying “she is” rather than “she was”. I still call out her name in the early morning before I really wake up, expecting our morning walk, only to be reminded by silence. I can’t believe she’s a past tense. Every day that passes is one more day I left her behind.

But life… Oh life, how curious you are.

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