Yesterday, I finished listening to Somerset Maugham’s The Moon and Sixpence and suddenly wanted to find every movie about Gauguin, to immerse myself in his passion and colorful Tahiti.
Perhaps in the gray mist of the metropolis, the lack of vitamin D is taking its toll, making me crave bright colors, sunshine, and vivid dreams.
Art historians still debate this book—how much of Strickland’s story is truly based on Gauguin’s life? So much resonates with Gauguin’s real story, but how much of it did Maugham invent?
"There are only two things in the world that justify human existence—love and art."
—Somerset Maugham