Louis: I got that Wols. Different brushes, hands, stains, rubbing, scratching. Gestures of anxiety but then the blues. Like little cigar ends. Like portals to the sky beyond. Armand: Like he got sick on the canvas? Louis: Watch. I'll sell it for five times the price in a year. Thirty times if he keeps drinking and dies.
Wols, It's All Over - The City, oil on canvas, 1947









