Still watching this youtube channel about what I can only describe as "Dark Classical art" and this one absolutely floored me because I was unaware of it and I want to share it because it changes my perspective on this artist completely.
You might be aware of Louis Wain. If not by name then by his art. He's the artist behind that series of cat drawings that slowly became more and more abstract and bizarre.
This series of paintings of cats are often labelled as a visual representation of Wain's deteriorating mental illness and schizophrenia. Even more so often labelled as "a tragic display of a painter's failing battle with schizophrenia."
The paintings look like this and were painted around the very early 1900s.
Ok got all that?
So here's the thing.
Although Wain did suffer from a mental illness that was strong enough for him to be institutionalized, his mental illness was never diagnosed with clear certainty. Although "Schizophrenia" is so heavily applied to him based purely on how his series of paintings LOOK, despite actual specialists widely disputing this. On top of this, although he did paint the kaleidoscope cat portraits during this time, it was not the only things he painted, and he was quite capable of painting "normal" pictures of cats.
The Kaleidoscope Cat portraits are more images of him experimenting with colour and shapes, something the Smithsonian themselves state on their website.
Wain had actually made his entire living painting whimsical images of cats, often for product adverts, before he was incarcerated and was actually a very beloved artist at the time. When his friends learned of his incarceration, they started a collection of donation money to help transfer Wain to the Bethlam Royal Hospital instead, one of the best mental health facilities of the time. Even the Prime Minster of the time donated, and they raised a large amount of money across England to help him.
4 years later, Wain drew this as his final image which he released publicly
I knew all about "the Schizophrenic cat Guy" but he had always been presented to me as some tragic case of an artist going mad and his skills and work unraveling as he went insane.
Which is why I wanted to share this information which was new to me. And because I think it's important.
Hatsune Miku + Draculaura
Dracumiku
Golden days š
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Can I PLEASE, please have a drunk!reader x Kƶnig? I beg.
Kƶnig is a homebody. He enjoys long naps, working out in the garage and drinking beers on the porch. On the other hand, you are outgoing. You enjoy having brunch with your girlies, exercising at a gym and drinking at clubs. So the only reason Kƶnig goes out is when you go out.
Kƶnig becomes the sniper he always wanted to be when he comes with you to the club. Posted up on the second floor, beer in hand, lounging on a worn leather couch with an unobstructed view of the dance floor. His gaze never leaving you like a hawk.
Even though crowds and loud popular music ain't his thing, Kƶnig almost insists in coming with you to make sure you are safe. Plus, he likes seeing you happy and having a blast. Even in the sea of people, he can still watch you dancing with your friends, fruity cocktail in hand, swaying with the rhythm, a picture of unfiltered joy.
Then, he sees him.
A random, stumbling drunk approaching you like a sneaky shark in musky waters. Kƶnigās fingers tighten around his beer as he straightens, muscles coiled like a loaded spring. He watches as the man reaches you and tries to dance behind you. You panicked and try to move away from him, pushing him by the chest.
That's enough.
āGo away!ā Your voice cuts through the music, but the man is too far gone to register the warning. Your head spinning by the alcohol and looking your boyfriend frenetically.
You stumble back, disoriented, until you meet a solid wallānot of concrete, but of flesh. A sigh of relief escapes you as you tilt your head up, met with the reassuring sight of your boyfriendās towering frame. Before you can say a word, his hands find your waist, pulling you firmly against him. You turn to him to hug him tight as well.
āMy king!ā You muffled against his shirt.
Kƶnig doesn't need to say a word, his dangerous presence and killer glare are enough to make this man stutter an apology and scatter away, tail tucked between his legs. Kƶnig smirks, amused, before looking down to find you kneading at his pecs like a contented cat making biscuits.
āSquishyā¦ā You hum with a dumb, drunk smile on your face. Not giving a single fuck of what just happened.
Kƶnig chuckles, patting your head. āYou good?ā
āNever been better,ā you answered before shoving your face in between his pecs with a happy sigh.
He simply smiles, holding you close as the night carries on, his silent vow of protection spoken through the warmth of his embrace.
A/N: Thanks for the request! <3
Masterlist.
They'd let you tie a pretty pink ribbon around it:
Already tied a pretty pink ribbon around it (don't ask why):
* i trip and hundreds of inocho doodles fall out of my pockets* oh shi-