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MATISSE'S CHAPEL, VENICE / Julia Wendell From out of my mouth came leaves. From out of my mouth came leaves and years, and a gold light. Such a simple radiant space and I have made it only a little less simple, but no less radiant. The white tile walls' few residents, black glaze outlines with no interior detail, are St. Dominic, the nursing Madonna with child. I took my colors from the land and sea and fused them into glass, into leaves that never change or fall, but inspire and change the light that passes through. We are most complete when we are simplest, entire in a few casual strokes of the genius' brush or pen. This is a child's dream, or an old man's, who from his infirm bed studies the pitch and tumble of old leaves at his glass, his small universe of four bleached walls held up by a desire for balance, serenity, economy, or god. The Missouri Review ยท 25 ...


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