Jean-Louis Forain made this mysterious pastel drawing, *The Supper at Emmaus*, sometime between 1852 and 1931. I can imagine Forain, working in soft pastels, almost caressing the surface. The drawing is all tentative marks and blurry outlines, shifting and emerging, as if conjured from memory. I wonder what it was like for Forain to imagine this supper. Look at the figure on the left, slumped forward, almost as if burdened by the weight of realization. And the server, he seems to hover in the background with a strange, almost melancholic gaze. The texture of the pastel gives everything a hazy, dreamlike quality. A gesture here, a smudge there – each mark a tiny, trembling act of faith. It makes me think of other artists who wrestle with the unknown, like Odilon Redon, also working with pastels, conjuring visions from the edge of consciousness. It's like they're all in conversation across time, whispering secrets through their art.
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