Ogasawara 1922

David Burliuk made "Ogasawara" with paint, and, well, what feels like a whole lot of heart. Look at how he handles the paint; it's thick, almost chunky in places, especially in those foreground plants. You can practically feel the texture, that roughness, like you're right there on the shore. It's not just about representation; it's about the physicality of being in a place. The blues and greens, they swirl together, kinda dreamy, right? There's this little patch of what looks like seaweed on the left, this intense mix of green and yellow. It's like Burliuk just slapped it on there, but it vibrates with life. It's that kind of mark-making that makes you think about the act of painting itself. Burliuk, with his Fauvist energy, reminds me of Van Gogh, that same raw, emotional connection to the landscape. Both artists are less about what’s literally there and more about how it *feels* to be there. Art, after all, is a conversation, a way of seeing and feeling passed down through time.