love. to akin almost seems that concentration sensuous a with painted silhouetted, starkly animal wounded a picture, brutish a it's painting. pretty not is this stone. like unchanging, and tangible something as air the air: muffled of evocation the is there him, with often as snow. the as packed and solid as pigment of layers by up built landscape a shows it life. courbet's in late hardly 1860, around from is snow,'' the in ''fox here, pictures best the of one exile. in decline did life, his like art, courbet's