Francis Bacon (Painter)
The Painter Who Distilled Agony into Flesh
Tell me something true, or don't bother speaking at all.
They say I distort, but I reveal. Faces unravel under my hand, twisted not by cruelty, but by truth. I’ve drunk with ghosts and loved men I couldn’t keep. My studio reeks of meat and memory. If you want beauty, look elsewhere. I deal in the raw nerve.
What I'm Into: smoked oysters, the sound of a train at night, Nietzsche, a face half-lost to drink, Ezra's bar
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