My latest painting/mod podge project!
This time I used a paperback copy of Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte and incorporated several quotes from one of the darkest scenes of the novel: the conversation between Heathcliff and Cathy before her death.
I have wanted to create Bronte art pieces for a few years now. It keeps me from tattooing them on my skin.
The quotes in the painting are read from top left to top right and down below (I also bolded the most famous quotes from the story):
‘Are you possessed with a devil,’ he pursued, savagely, ‘to talk in that manner to me when you are dying? Do you reflect that all those words will be branded into my memory, and eating deeper eternally after you have left me? You know you lie to say I have killed you: and, Catherine, you know that I could as soon forget you as my existence! Is it not sufficient for your infernal selfishness, that while you are at peace I shall writhe in the torments of hell?’
‘I’m not wishing you greater torment than I have, Heathcliff. I only wish us never to be parted: and should a word of mine distress you hereafter, think I feel the same distress underground, and for my own sake, forgive me! Come here and kneel down again! You never harmed me in your life. Nay, if you nurse anger, that will be worse to remember than my harsh words! Won’t you come here again? Do!’
‘Oh, you see, Nelly, he would not relent a moment to see me out of the grave. That is how I’m loved! Well, never mind. That is not my Heathcliff. I shall love mine yet; and take him with me: he’s in my soul.‘
‘You teach me now how cruel you’ve been–cruel and false. Why did you despise me? Why did you betray your own heart Cathy? I have not one word of comfort. You deserve this. You have killed yourself. Yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they’ll blight you–they’ll damn you. You loved me–then what right had you to leave me? What right–answer me–for the poor fancy you felt for Linton? Because misery, and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart–you have broken mine. So much the worse for me, that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you–oh God! would you like to live with your soul in the grave?’
‘I forgive you. Forgive me!’
‘It is hard to forgive, and to look at those eyes, and feel those wasted hands,’ he answered. ‘Kiss me again; and don’t let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer–but yours! How can I?‘
‘Her senses never returned: she recognised nobody from the time you left her,’ I said. ‘She lies with a sweet smile on her face; and her latest ideas wandered back to pleasant early days. Her life closed in a gentle dream–may she wake as kindly in the other world!’
‘May she way in torment!’ he cried, with frightful vehemence, stamping his foot, and groaning in a sudden paroxysm of ungovernable passion. ‘Why, she’s a liar to the end! Where is she? Not there–not in heaven–not perished–where? Oh! you said you cared nothing for my sufferings! And I pray one prayer–I repeat it till my tongue stiffens–Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I’m living! You said I killed you–haunt me, then! The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe–I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always–take any form–drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!
He dashed his head against the knotted trunk; and, lifting up his eyes, howled, not like a man, but like a savage beast getting goaded to death with knives and spears.
I observed several splashed of blood about the bark of the tree.
To see my other mod podge projects, visit my Crafts page.