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The Dream | 1897 | Ferdinand Hodler

#art #painting #ArtNouveau #symbolism #hodler

guess I have to interprete this #symbolism.. is the man dead? is she mourning her loss? who is dreaming?

...shook're awake!'ll get the hang of this in no time

ah, a literalist's metaphor! xD

How does one start communities? I was in Absurdist Arts on G+. So fanciful and fun, with all the many interpretations of work. Metaphor's galore!

I think this is the fantasy of the artist. Poppy sedation, a brightly colored figure, snaking orange hair or a stark nude, with cold earth tones, dreaming passionately. One soft, one rigid. (It was all I could muster, sorry/lame. ;-) and @I am not Alice)

We use #hashtags here.. but I am not master, myself.

I see. I'll try a few.

Where is iana? Maybe out and about enjoying the weather?

I'd ask him what the matter was
But I know that he don't talk

I like that. I'm reading that Holder had a lot of loss and death during his life. The male kind of looks like him...actually.

As soon as I saw this painting, I thought of Klimpt.

...who’s dreaming who @Michele Hax? …it’s all so coffin & loss

…as for communities on here, I heard a suggestion somewhere that you could form a kind of grouping using a unique hashtag, or perhaps really get creative and have a whole Pod dedicated to ‘Absurdist Arts’? can you not get symbolism here ...death, dreams, and fate, portrayed as anything, are, by definition, symbolic, becoming more so as we, the viewers, add in our own personal experiences

...I like your comparison to Klimt's style @Michele Hax

I guess my problem is determining who is dreaming.. there is not necessarily a death involved (the context is off-screen). I don't see symbolism just the act.

...I'm reminded of Poe's "Dream Within A Dream"

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! Can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?