robbietreend
robbietreend:

(AND OF COURSE) Egon Schiele - Self Portrait as St.Sebastian for a poster of an exhibition for his work 1914/15
Ever since the Renaissance, people have believed that the arrows have symbolised the artist’s brushes, and has conveyed the message through artists that “every painter paints himself”. The tip of Schiele’s arrow’s are very unusual, and none have pierced his skin, as if they are bouncing off his body- perhaps to indicate the softness of the brush.

robbietreend:

(AND OF COURSE) Egon Schiele - Self Portrait as St.Sebastian for a poster of an exhibition for his work 1914/15

Ever since the Renaissance, people have believed that the arrows have symbolised the artist’s brushes, and has conveyed the message through artists that “every painter paints himself”. The tip of Schiele’s arrow’s are very unusual, and none have pierced his skin, as if they are bouncing off his body- perhaps to indicate the softness of the brush.

egonschiele
egonschiele:

Tod und Mädchen (Death and the Maiden), 1915 - Egon Schiele
The Maiden:
Pass me by! Oh, pass me by!Go, fierce man of bones!I am still young! Go, rather,And do not touch me.And do not touch me.Death:
Give me your hand, you beautiful and tender form!I am a friend, and come not to punish.Be of good cheer! I am not fierce,Softly shall you sleep in my arms!
orenji:

Das Mädchen:
Vorüber! Ach, vorüber!Geh, wilder Knochenmann!Ich bin noch jung! Geh, lieber,Und rühre mich nicht an.Und rühre mich nicht an. Der Tod:
Gib deine Hand, du schön und zart Gebild!Bin Freund, und komme nicht, zu strafen.Sei gutes Muts! ich bin nicht wild,Sollst sanft in meinen Armen schlafen!poem by Matthias Claudius

egonschiele:

Tod und Mädchen (Death and the Maiden), 1915 - Egon Schiele

The Maiden:

Pass me by! Oh, pass me by!
Go, fierce man of bones!
I am still young! Go, rather,
And do not touch me.
And do not touch me.


Death:

Give me your hand, you beautiful and tender form!
I am a friend, and come not to punish.
Be of good cheer! I am not fierce,
Softly shall you sleep in my arms!

orenji:

Das Mädchen:

Vorüber! Ach, vorüber!
Geh, wilder Knochenmann!
Ich bin noch jung! Geh, lieber,
Und rühre mich nicht an.
Und rühre mich nicht an.


Der Tod:

Gib deine Hand, du schön und zart Gebild!
Bin Freund, und komme nicht, zu strafen.
Sei gutes Muts! ich bin nicht wild,
Sollst sanft in meinen Armen schlafen!
poem by Matthias Claudius