The Last Canvas of Light
Paris in the 1890s was a city of gaslight and velvet, a place where the air tasted of absinthe and ambition. Julian lived in a garret in Montmartre, a room so small that his easel touched the ceiling and his bed was a pile of moth-eaten blankets. He had been expelled from the École des Beaux-Arts for "aesthetic heresy"—he didn't want to paint the world as it was; he wanted to paint the world as...
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