The humanity reoccurs in the reincarnation of the tangled and fatalistic liaison between woman and love.
Camille led the road to destruction along with her maniacal obsession to Rodin, which mirrored some mad moments in my experience.
The lived lives in the artistic history preaches to the upcoming ones, wondering and trying to reveal the veil of love which nurtures the soul only under the circumstances of mutual respect, appreciation, faithfulness and a possible future. Once being over across the bottom line, nothing but inferiority, self-destruction, agogy and any opposite aspect of decency or dignity of human being left.
Might divine Camille sleep in the silence and eternity in her beautiful liquid hair and breathtaking back skin
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