ITALIAN RENAISSANCE DEGENERATE

Someone asked me recently if there were painters who did lovely flesh. Which is precisely why I woke up with a glistening and pudgy spoiled man-brat in my mind's eyes this morning, painted by Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio. Who was an Italian renaissance degenerate famous for shadow work, creamy light drenched flesh tones, as well as a violent quarrelsome dude likely to stab people in bar fights. Not someone you should emulate.
Also a fellow of very dubious sexuality.

Myself, I am not of dubious sexuality. Just thought I'd let you know. Not that it's anybody's business. At all. Let's not discuss it. Not being an Italian renaissance degenerate.

We twentieth century Dutch Americans are normal and straightlaced.
And I really don't understand why that isn't widely known.
Mmm, cover your supine form in chocolate!

Breasteses! Breasteses!

Um, never mind.

We Dutch Americans love tropical environments, the jungle is in our blood.


It's currently below fifty degrees in SF right now. Which is VERY un-Dutch.

In Caravaggio's natal city it is presently fifteen degrees Fahrenheit warmer than here, the sun is shining, and someone is singing an aria. How much more tropical and exotic can you get? There are huge swarms of pudgy degenerates everywhere.

No wonder they have so many Dutchmen.

Breasteses.



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