Jeanne Calment of France
Did she know who he was—Van Gogh—when as a girl she sold him paints, noting his eyes glazed like halved oysters in their liquor, his verdigris skin like centuries-old copper or birches rough with lichens, remembering his choices—earthy ochres, umbers. On her death, age 122, did she still think of him as she had then—“ugly as sin and smelling of booze,” tainting her shop like a burnt thing, producing art like hydrangeas—brilliant blue in acidic soil.
about the author
Kerry Trautman’s poetry and short fiction have appeared in various print and online journals, including The Toledo Review, Alimentum, The Coe Review, The Redwood Coast Review, and Think Journal, as well as in the anthologies Tuesday Night at Sam and Andy’s Uptown Café (Westron Press, 2001), Mourning Sickness (Omniarts, 2008), and Roll (Telling Our Stories Press, 2012).