It took a while for this painting to mean something to me.
I’m sure at the time, Klimt fancied his audience with the beautiful gold leaf crust that formed around the two lovers in “The Kiss” — and I’m sure anyone capable of loving could see why it would later become his most famous work.
Maybe it was strange, that the first time I actually saw the portrait was in the beginning of this year (2017).
It was hung across my bed in a rental that I had lived in for 2 months – and perhaps, the story gets stranger – when 8 months later, my new found love, pulled out a brochure with Klimt’s pieces sprawled across it.
I’d looked through pages and began to describe to him how similar each work of art looked to the same painting I’d seen in Vegas.
I couldn’t get to the gruesome details of how hard life truly was – but at the given time, I was still able to appreciate the art that stood in front of me.
My love exclaimed that I was describing ‘The Kiss’ by Klimt Gustav.
And was it even stranger that weeks later he took me to Austria, where he and Klimt both happened to have originated from, to go see the actual piece in person?
Whether it mattered or not we were die hard classic romantics.
Anyone else would’ve laughed at any two people who set out to a different country, just so one can experience a glance at a famous painting — that even Ikea made prints of — in person.
Finally, as we make our way to the end of the year, I asked my love to hang the painting right in front of me.
A funny feeling filled up my heart as I starred back at the gold shrine of love.
I’d remembered the same feelings – I had felt – given the time that I first saw ‘The Kiss’ in front of my bed.
I began to look closer at intricate details of the painting, listening to what Gustav was trying to tell in picture.
A man and woman are standing at the edge of a cliff – perhaps the edge of the world.
The woman is on her knees which is a symbol of asking, maybe even praying. Her toes bent at the edge – showing a sign of struggle to possibly stay afloat or be saved from falling off.
Her arms hang across his neck, with her fingers slightly relaxed yet slightly clinging on to him. Klimt shows that she is being pulled up with how the fingers are placed on the lover’s neck.
As she grasps on to him her face, gentle with expression. It’s almost as if he’s caught her mid fall and she’s finally had a moment to relax.
Although you can not see his face you do sense by the facial structure of part of the face that he is a handsome man.
The two come into synch with their gold-like cloths surrounding them and their heavenly aura, and his cheek resting on hers for the universal symbol of a kiss.
Could it be strange, that maybe the world could have conspired with the magic of a painting that tells the story of two lovers, so pure, they became gold.