All language subtitles for georgia.okeeffe-vh-prod

I don't trust words.

Words and I are not good friends at all.

A painter using words,
it's like a baby trying to walk.

Better to let the picture speak on its own
than try to help it along with a word.

What has happened to me in the past
and how it has happened,

I don't think that's anyone's business,
except my own.

You just look at the paintings,
see what you can see in the paintings.

That's all you have a right to see.
That's all I will allow you to see.

So, there.

Someone else's vision will never be
as good as your own vision of yourself.

Live and die with it.
Because in the end, that's all you have.

Lose it, and you lose yourself
and everything else.

I should have listened to myself.

Extraordinary, aren't they?
Drawn by a woman.

Yes.

- Please take them down.
- Beg your pardon?

You heard me.

Yes, I did, but...

No, I will not take them down.

And who the devil do you think you are,
anyway?

I am Georgia O'Keeffe,
and these are my drawings,

and I think that... No, I am sure...

You never asked my permission
to show them, did you?

- No, I did not ask your permission.
- Well, then you'll have to take them down.

Do you have any idea what you have done
in these pictures?

Of course I do. Do you think I'm an idiot?

No, I think you are a revelation.

Well, no one else seems to share
your opinion.

For God's sake, woman.

I've hung your work
next to some of the greatest artists

of this or any age,

Picasso, Matisse, Dove, Hartley,
Braque, Cezanne.

And I've done so because I see in your work
the same raw, intuitive,

irrational, unconscious, untutored talents
from whence all true creativity erupts,

male or female.

And you, Miss O'Keeffe, have no more right
to withhold these pictures

than you have to withdraw a child
from the world,

if you had given birth to one.

You sure can talk.

In every painting,
there is all of your life coming back at you,

not just one flower or a piece of bone or sky.

That's just what you see at the end
when the work is finished.

But at the start,
when you look at the empty canvas,

you see your whole life looking back at you.

I learned that from Mr. Stieglitz.

Everything I know I learned from him,
or because of him, or in spite of him.

Well, hello.

- I'll take your bag.
- Thank you.

So...

This is it.

It belongs to my niece, Elizabeth,

but you'll be welcome to stay
as long as you want.

I work a little in here,
but I don't use that room at all.

Apart from the closet. I use it as a...

I'm sorry. These...
I shouldn't have put these on here.

I use the darkroom a little bit
for storing things and developing,

but this will be your room.

See, I don't live here.

I live up on Madison with my family, my wife.

- I did mention I had a wife?
- Yes.

Good.

So you wouldn't be disturbed here at all.
We would schedule my work

so that it didn't conflict
with your creative necessities,

and my visits would be promulgated
on your permissions.

Well,

- it's a very attractive proposition.
- Yeah, it's...

A room of my own in the city of New York.

And all it will cost me
is a few regularly scheduled visits

- from my benefactor. Is that the idea?
- No!

No, no. I didn't mean...
I didn't mean to imply...

I believe you did.

I'm sorry, Mr. Stieglitz.
I can't help being honest.

- No.
- I don't know if it's a fault in my nature

or a good thing,
but I've never had any choice in the matter.

I do have a teaching position in Texas,
and they're expecting me to return.

- ln Texas? Where in Texas?
- West Texas State Normal College.

Nothing is normal in Texas, Miss O'Keeffe.

But, in any case, I'll tell you flat-out,
I intend to accept your proposition.

You mean... Well, good.

But the bed belongs under the skylight.

- No, let me do that.
- Yeah.

Because, you see,
then I can lie on my back at night

and look at the stars circling your head,
if such an occasion should arise.

Miss O'Keeffe,
you are teasing me unmercifully.

Yes, I am, and I'm enjoying it, too.

Morning. I'm just collecting.

I want to...

Would you mind if I photographed you?

You have a beautiful face.

My mother used to put me in the back room
when company came.

- She thought I was so homely.
- Homely?

You are not homely, Miss O'Keeffe.

I'm not fishing for compliments,
Mr. Stieglitz.

I know what I look like.

You have no idea what you look like.

Mr. Stieglitz?

Put this on.

Right, now... You're a skinny little thing.

There we are. Tie it around there.

We're gonna use four bottles.

And if you'll hold that...

What was it? Four, three. That makes it 12.
Now, 12 water.

- Now feel that corner. Just feel it. Feel that?
- Yes.

That tells you that the exposed side
is underneath, and that's the bottom right.

So you can always know
that with a negative.

- All right.
- Pull that out.

And slip it in. Slip it into the water.
Just... Good. That's right.

That's good. That's good.

- It's all right?
- That comes... Yeah.

Well, look at that.

That's everything I feel about you
fixed in a moment.

Don't look at me like that.

It's not magic. It's you.

- Once again, who is it?
- O'Keeffe. Georgia O'Keeffe.

- Georgia O'Keeffe.
- Yeah, I think... I think you'll enjoy her.

They're great images,
and the colors are really great.

- Are you gonna buy anything?
- I think not.

Look at that piece over there.

Whereas the Marins
are like an orchestra run wild.

- He was destroyed by the reviews.
- Yeah.

Holder called his pictures
"great gobs of imbecility."

Yeah, well, Holder was absolutely wrong.

Men and words.

But whenever I can't get to sleep,
I just get my husband talking like that,

and it puts me right out.

- I'm Rebecca Strand.
- Georgia O'Keeffe.

I know.

But why the depression?

Why the half whisper, the half light,
the soft petal?

The fear of full color?

- Are we afraid?
- Yes.

- And if so, of what? Ourselves?
- Yes! Yes!

My dear, whatever do you look like?

A nun, an acolyte, a virgin at the orgy.
It's fantastic.

And the shoes.

Please promise you won't ever tell me
where they come from.

I won't. If you promise never to tell me
where you come from.

Mrs. Mabel Evans Dodge Stern.
That's three, isn't it?

I've had three husbands so far.
I collect husbands.

And you are Alfred's newest plaything.

The milkmaid from Wisconsin.

My God. He picks up lovers like olives.

Dangerous man. Absolute genius.

You're not in love with him, are you?

You are. Aren't you?

Oh, my dear, my condolences.

Well, headfirst into the fire. Why not?
Life is short.

Come on. Come meet
some of the other dogs in my kennel.

They're all bastards, every one of them.

- Paul Strand.
- Hi, Mabel.

He's one.

- And, Becca, have you met Georgia?
- Yes.

And Jean Toomer. Now, he is a poet,
he's a philosopher,

he's absolutely gorgeous.
I'd marry him in a second.

- Except, of course, that I'm already married.
- That's never stopped you before.

Now, you must come to my house in Taos.
It's heaven.

Don't even think about saying no.

Jean Toomer.

- Georgia O'Keeffe, my new best friend.
- It's a pleasure to meet you.

Whatever that is, give me two of them.

What's this all about?

I may not know what art is,
but I know what art isn't.

- And this isn't art.
- You're fearless.

Mr. Stieglitz,
I've been absolutely terrified my entire life,

and I have never let it keep me
from doing a single thing I wanted to do.

Don't move for three minutes.

From here to here.

My mother died from malnutrition
and tuberculosis.

She hemorrhaged and bled to death.

No one knew she was sick,
and she never asked for help.

She died alone and hungry.

I'm like her, starving,

yet too proud to know that I need help.

What sort of help?

I have things in my head.

I don't know where they come from.
I don't know how they get there.

Shapes and ideas that are so near to me,

they're so natural to my way of being
and thinking,

and I need to get them out of my head

and bring them into the world.

Emmy.

I've left her.

Twenty-five years of unhappiness,
it took me one hour, 15 minutes.

Yes! Here, here.

I don't suppose you have room for a lodger.

We might have one space for you,
Mr. Stieglitz.

What are you doing?

If you're gonna have a lodger
and it's gonna be me,

then if we have visitors,
we need some propriety.

We can't have them thinking
we sleep in the same room.

Really? Really?
We can't? We can't? We can't?

- We have got to...
- No, no, no, no.

You know, one day, you're gonna
have to put some color on those.

They have to dry. It takes six months.

Do you know what I miss
more than anything in New York?

No.

Tell me what you miss, and I'll get it for you.

I miss the sky.

So, this is the woman
who destroyed my son's marriage.

Pleased. Very pleased to meet you.

Well done, Alfred.

Right.

- What did... What did you do there?
- I just adjusted the wicket. That's all.

All right, now, is it... Is it my go or your go?

- It's yours.
- All right.

Yes!

To be perfectly honest,
no one misses your wife, Alfred, do they?

She was a cow. You're lucky to be rid of her.

Of course, there is Kitty.

It's always hard on the children,
these extramarital affairs.

That is what you call them now, isn't it?
From the Latin "extra," outside of,

and also, appropriately,
besides or on top of.

As in, a little something extra on the side.

- Mother, please.
- Lee!

I won't mention the unmentionables.

I won't mention your wife's distant cousin,
Amanda, what's-her-name, Hoff?

Mrs. Hoff is, as I'm sure you know,
as the whole world knows,

my son Lee's very special friend.

We don't mention Mrs. Hoff in this house
lest we upset Mrs. Hoff's husband,

not to mention Lee's wife.

Tell me, Alfred,
do you think modern art is a reflection

of this very modern way of life?

Or do you think that this unmentionable way
of modern life

inspires the wretched refuse
we now call art?

Did I say something funny?

Wider, please.

- Can you see anything?
- Absolutely nothing.

Well, look some more.
There's something going on.

I was up half the night.

- You're perfectly fine.
- ls there any inflammation?

No.

Nothing a few years of intense
psychoanalysis wouldn't cure.

I don't find that amusing.

Put your shirt back on or you will get sick.

- Alfred...
- Thank you.

You're my brother.
You don't need to thank me.

Just with Emmy gone,
I find myself without a regular income.

I still have regular expenses with the gallery
and magazine,

- so I do find myself a little bit short.
- Please. I understand.

- I'll pay you back.
- I'm sure you will.

- I've started photographing again.
- Good.

And I'm planning
a wonderful new exhibition.

I'm sure.

A series of photographs of one person.
You can guess who.

Straight photographs. No tricks of any kind.
No humbug. No sentimentalism.

Prints so sharp you can see the pores
in the skin.

Heads, ears, toes, hands, torsos,

clean-cut, heartfelt bits of universality
in the shape of a woman.

There's been nothing like it before.
It'll cause a sensation,

and I'll finally have the money
to pay you back.

- You and everybody else.
- I wish you all the best, Alfred.

Why do you always sound so skeptical?

Well, last time I heard you this excited

is when you showed those paintings of
what's-his-name?

Nobody ever heard of him.
He was Italian, drew people with two noses.

- I can never remember his name.
- Pablo Picasso. And he's Spanish.

You were over the moon.
I've never seen you so worked up.

You hung dozens of paintings,
didn't sell a single one.

Well, he's still the greatest living painter
ever to come along in my lifetime.

- And you're still broke.
- Yeah, but that's...

Will he live, Dr. Stieglitz?

I don't know if I'd better kiss you.
You might catch...

Yes, you can.

Georgia, it's me, Alfred.

- Go away. Nobody home.
- Now, come on.

- Georgia, open the door.
- No, no. I'm working.

Well, we'll work together. Open the door.

No. Sorry, Alfred. This is my place.
You have to find your own place.

What do you mean, this is your place?
I built this thing.

- It's on my property, for God's sake.
- Well, do you own the grass?

Because I've been walking on it,

and I don't remember
asking your permission.

Don't be so stupid. Just open the door.
Come on.

What are you doing in there?

- Let me in. Come on. Let me in.
- No! I'm working!

- How could you do this to us?
- Emmy, I never meant to hurt you,

but I thought if you would meet her,
if you could see her,

then you would understand,

- and if we understand each other...
- Alfred, please!

- ...then we could live together.
- What are you saying?

You, Kitty, me and Georgia.

- Alfred, you are a child.
- You're my wife!

- You're an idiot!
- I care deeply about you.

That's why I invited you here to meet her!
Why is it whatever I try to do, I hurt you?

Two people I want to hurt least in the world!

You are free to live your life as you choose,

but flaunting that woman
and throwing her in our faces...

I am not flaunting her!
I just want you to meet her, for God's sake!

- No!
- I am not flaunting.

Mr. Stieglitz, it's time for us to leave now.

So, no matter how modern our ways,

- we remain stuck in the last century.
- Shut up, Mother.

Goodbye, Georgia. Good luck, dear.

I, Georgia, take you, Alfred...

- As my lawful wedded husband...
- ...as my lawful wedded husband...

- ...to have and to hold...
- ...to have and to hold...

...to love, honor and obey...

- Let's skip that part. What comes next?
- Well, the rings?

We don't have any rings.
We don't need rings, do we?

- No, not necessarily.
- Good.

So, well, I guess I now pronounce you
man and wife.

- Congratulations, Mrs. Stieglitz.
- O'Keeffe. Ms. O'Keeffe.

We don't have any money,
do we, Mr. Stieglitz?

An artist doesn't work for money.
He works for pleasure.

I never took any commission at the gallery.
Not a penny.

Picasso, Braque, Rodin,
showed them all for nothing.

Even you, Miss O'Keeffe.

So, in other words,
we don't have any money.

Well, we have money,
it's just we're a little short at the moment.

Well, when things got bad at the farm,
there was always one solution.

- And what was that?
- Have a baby.

- Yeah. Perfect logic.
- I'm serious.

What about?

Having a baby.

No. I'm too old for that. I have a family.

Well, I had a family.

I did it once, and I did it badly.

Anyhow, what would happen to your work
with a screaming child running about,

using up your time and your attention?

- Alfred, people have children all the time.
- We don't need a child.

- It's not a question of need.
- You're my child,

and I'm yours.

You're my family, my all, my everything.
Let's just be thankful for that, all right?

- Well, it might be a good thing.
- Why are you going on about this?

- I'm only expressing my opinion.
- No, you're not! You're defying me!

You're denying me the rightness
of what I'm saying!

- Do not do that! Do not do that!
- Alfred! Why are you so upset?

Is it... Is it...
Are you upset about having a child

or that I'm expressing my own opinion?
Can't I express my own opinion?

Listen. You are here in this studio,
on this earth,

you are here to paint!
Not to breed, to paint! Paint! Paint!

I'm sorry.

It's just that I know
I can't give you everything you need.

It's just funny.
Everyone assumes you're so rich.

Not you.

I never assumed you were anything,

except a great shining star,
and I was hitching a ride on you.

It's very warm in here.
Would you undo my collar for me?

And my shirt?

Stieglitz has brought the lens
close to the epidermis

to reveal O'Keeffe in her full glory.

The vagina, the pubic hair, the nipples,
the bare buttocks,

the breasts in their voluptuous splendor.

He has dared to show us the naked female
as she has never been seen before,

capturing the gesture
of impassioned surrender.

Alfred hates it when I'm late.

Isn't that...

- That's O'Keeffe.
- I can't recognize her.

O'Keeffe.

- You can't leave.
- You bastard.

- You bastard! How could you do that to me?
- I am making you famous.

Those pictures were my love for you,
my gift to you, not to the world.

- Don't you understand the difference?
- Are you ashamed of your body?

I am ashamed that you have undressed me
in public,

revealed my most private parts
for every man on the street to see.

- I'm not famous. I am infamous.
- Famous, infamous, what does it matter?

Yesterday you were nobody,
but today you're somebody.

- I've made you important!
- A freak in a sideshow.

No, like a woman proud of her feelings
and her instincts, her body and her sex.

- Alfred.
- Good evening.

Emma Goldman can preach free love
and feminine power

till she's blue in the face, but you embody it.
You are it.

You live it and breathe it,

and all the world can see that
in my photographs,

a model of the female essence
that's never been seen before.

It's the truth. It's the truth.

Truth or untruth, I do not need to advertise
what I am in public

for all of New York to see.

No. You could have stayed down in Normal,
Texas, God help you,

and painted your brilliant little heart out
for the rest of your days.

No one would have noticed
or taken the slightest attention of you.

Work doesn't become art until
some rich person comes along and buys it.

Then it's art.

Look.

Tomorrow, in the New York Herald,
McBride's gonna say,

"This O'Keeffe woman is a sensation.
She is one long, loud blast of sex.

"Everybody knows her name,

"and now everybody
will want to know her painting.

"She is a female American Picasso."

- You planned this.
- Of course I did.

McBride's article was written weeks ago.
Open your eyes!

Here.

Here's Barnes and Rosenfeld and Mumford
all writing about you.

All writing what I tell them to write
about you.

Have I made a bargain with the devil?

You knew what you wanted
even before you met me.

You don't own me, Stieglitz.

No. I own the photographs,

but the spirit of the woman inside them
is yours.

Now, come on. If I were you,
I would return to the scene of my triumph,

and I would embrace that triumph
as if it were my own child.

A child, who, if treated properly,
will support you well into your old age.

The woman, in an instant,

has essentially become
a newspaper personality.

This is unrelated to her talent and painting.

Everybody knows her name,
and because they know her name,

they desire to purchase her paintings.

In this, our period of women's ascendancy,
we behold O'Keeffe's work

flowering forth like a manifestation
of that feminine creature we first met

in Stieglitz's photographs.

Her great, painful, ecstatic climaxes
makes us, at last, to know that

when women feel strongly,
they feel through the womb.

They paint through the womb.

Her art is gloriously female.

There's no stroke laid by her brush
that is not ultimately feminine,

is not curiously, arrestingly feminine.

The essence of the very woman
is in every stroke she makes,

every color she chooses.

Thank you.

I do hope Alfred remembered to change
the dinner reservation.

I told him that Paul and I were joining you.

- Yes.
- I'm sure you can understand.

- Do you know who that woman is?
- She's the money. Lots of money.

Sears, Roebuck money.

To have your own input.

Georgia. This is Dorothy Norman.

Mrs. Norman is planning to invest
a substantial amount in the gallery.

I'm so in awe of Mr. Stieglitz.
I'm in awe of you, too, Miss O'Keeffe.

I've been an admirer
since your early works on paper.

If I seem a little overwhelmed,

I can't believe I'm standing in this room
with you.

I'd do anything to help. I mean it.

- I'd sweep the floor if you'd let me.
- Well, that sounds good.

Well, dinner?

Miss Norman,
it's a pleasure to see you again,

and I hope you'll be able to come by
the gallery soon.

Very soon. Definitely.

Good night.

She won't stay long.
She does have a husband to get back to.

You'd never know it.

When she goes, so will your migraine.

I think we should thank
the generous Mr. Norman

for affording us the glorious opportunity
of spending this week with Mrs. Norman.

He doesn't mind. We have an understanding.

- Very modern.
- I like to think so.

One heart.

And,

tell me, do the two of you still screw?

- Alfred. For God's sake.
- I'm sorry, Becca.

Would you prefer I used
another euphemism?

No, dear.
"Screw" is a good word, an honest word.

Two diamonds.

Yes, we do screw on occasion.

- Christmas and Easter?
- And birthdays.

Two hearts.

So, then, in the meantime, you're free
to look for love anywhere you'd like.

So to speak.

Three of diamonds.

Well, there you are, my love.

- The formula for the perfect marriage.
- Quite right, quite right.

Love nurtures a marriage,
whether it is from within or without.

You and Mr. Norman are quite right.
Stay married. Do not divorce.

And nurture the beast with love,

whenever and wherever you can find it.

- Pass?
- Pass.

My father ran Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show.

I grew up with every kind of rude
and ill-mannered cowboy and Indian,

and I can safely say

your husband's behavior
is worse than any of them.

- You're right.
- So, say something to him. Pick a fight.

He wouldn't have the faintest idea
what I was talking about.

He doesn't know what he's doing
or what's happening to him.

- Well, then he's an idiot.
- Yes, he is.

And I love him,

even when I can't stand the sight of him
or the thought of him with another woman.

- What are you gonna do about Mrs. Norman?
- I may just have to shoot her.

She adores him,
and that's what he really wants.

Someone who lives only for him,

a little seed that he can plant
and nurture and care for and...

Is that what you were to him?

Yes, I was a little plant
that he watered and weeded

and dug around until he lost interest in me
because I grew out of his shadow.

- It's so dark. Where are we?
- Go back to sleep. We're almost there.

- You're sure Mabel won't mind?
- She insisted I bring you.

She knows what you've been going through.

- I'll be fine.
- Of course you will.

- I hurt so much.
- I know. Here.

You'll love it in Taos.
It's like being on the moon.

I'm gonna get you out of these wet things
and into bed, Georgia.

I know. I know it hurts, Georgia.

Hello.

I don't know why I'm speaking Spanish
to you. You're not Spanish, are you?

But I don't know any Indian language.

English? Do you speak English?

Yes, Ms. O'Keeffe. I do speak English.

Poquito espanol, couple of Hopi dialects,
and my French is pretty good.

What are you doing way out here
without your shoes?

I don't know.
I just woke up, wandered out, got lost.

Come on.

I'll give you a lift back.
Mabel will be worried.

Good God, I thought we'd lost you already.

You should be in bed, resting, recuperating.

I'm fine, Mabel.
I'm fine thanks to your friend.

He's not a friend, Georgia.
He's a husband, Tony Luhan.

That makes me Mabel Evans Dodge Stern
Luhan. That's four, isn't it?

Congratulations. The collection is growing.

Oh, my dear,
one can't be this far out into the wilderness

without a little pokey-poke every now
and then. Good for the skin,

and the disposition.
Now, I want you back in bed.

I want you good and rested. We're having
guests tonight. Dinner and dancing.

- I don't feel like dancing, Mabel.
- Oh, my dear. Dancing is a euphemism.

What does the dance mean?

It means that you're one with nature.

With the earth and sky, and the bricks,
and the river.

And the beasts in the field.

Not better or worse, not different,
not separate,

but all the same.

See, in the dancing, Ms. O'Keeffe, it means...

It means that you are the earth and sky.

Yes.

I'd really like to learn how to drive.
Do you think you could teach me?

Yes, Ms. O'Keeffe. Of course.

Thank you, Mr. Luhan.

Dear Ms. O'Keeffe,
I'm planning a small group show in the fall,

and I sincerely hope that you will honor me
with more of your flower paintings.

I have denigrated them in the past,

but clearly I was out of step with what
the buyers are buying.

We could sell 100 of them were you to find
the time and the inclination.

The show cannot go on without you,
and I'm afraid I myself cannot, either.

The thought of you
so many miles away from me

makes me sadder than you would imagine.
I am terribly eager to make a fresh go of it.

As ever, your most humble husband,
Mr. Stieglitz.

- What's that mountain out there?
- They call it the Pedernal.

- We call it...
- It looks small.

It's not.

- Well, get closer. Can you get closer?
- Yeah.

- This is one crazy woman.
- Yes.

- It must be 120 degrees.
- Want some water?

God, no.

- How about some tequila?
- Now you're talking.

- You all right?
- Yes.

Another... Another letter from Stieglitz.
Gilled with remorse, I imagine.

- Put it with the rest of them.
- Must be dozens.

- I'll read them later.
- Good girl.

Let go of New York. Let go of everything.
That's the only way.

No ties that bind. No... No binds at all.

It's been almost a year since I wore a girdle.

- You're drunk.
- No, no. It's true. It's true.

- It's good to see you like this.
- Like what?

Happy, relaxed.

I love it here. Heaven help me.
I'm glad I'm here.

Well, yeah. You want to play like that?

If you want to play like that,
then I want to play, too.

Oh, no! Oh, no.

All right. Forward. I'll get it this time.

That was easy.

- You want to know the truth?
- I sure do.

I've never felt at home in the East.

- What about Stieglitz?
- I don't know.

I can't leave him
without cutting half my heart away,

but I know I belong here.

My head's filling up with pictures
just waiting to jump onto the canvas.

I mean, I just... I look

at the hills and the sky and I just...

I think half your work's done for you,
isn't it?

I told Tony to order us our own car.

It's a Model T, and it costs $670,

but it has removable seats and a high roof,
and I can paint right inside.

I'd imagine I could get a canvas,
I don't know, 30 by 40 inches in the back.

It'd keep me out of the heat and the cold,
don't you think?

She's not read them? She's not read them?

"I haven't had time to read them."

What in God's name is she thinking?
I must have written her 100 letters!

Listen to this, "l found the most wonderful
hills driving through the Navajo country."

She's driving! Georgia's driving
a car into savage territories.

Go to bed, Alfred.

With nobody but some Indian
and good-for-nothing Becca Strand.

I know her father consorted
with Wild Bill Hickok.

Buffalo Bill, Alfred.
Not Wild Bill, Buffalo Bill.

"Mabel's house is full of
the most wonderful assortment of people."

Wonderful, wonderful!
Everything's wonderful!

"Last week Jean Toomer arrived,
another woman in tow,

"looking as handsome as ever."

Here we are. "ln the heat of the afternoon,

"we all lie out naked under the sun
and bake."

What, she has Jean Toomer out there?

I mean, they're all lying naked under the sun,
under the stars.

You don't have to tell me what's going on.
I can read it.

I can read between the lines.

"Jean Toomer is steeped in
the philosophies of Gurdjieff

"and has been showing me
the most curious exercises."

I bet he has.

"He has been demonstrating something
called the fourth way of..."

She's a married woman, for God's sake!
She has a home! She has a husband!

She's abandoned all civilized behavior?

Yes, it's very wrong of her.
Now come to bed.

When she's not cavorting with the natives,

she's snuggling up to
the black prince of Harlem.

Young and handsome. Young!
Unlike some of us.

God help it. Bastard! Let it all go!

Let it all go! I don't need that!

Work. It's what keeps her away.

God, always working with the gallery,
and I never see her.

So, when she's here, I never see her.
So she goes away.

She goes... I'm no good for her.

I want her to come home.

I want her just to come home.

- Oh, God.
- What is it?

Heart...

Georgia, listen.

- We got a telegram.
- It's Alfred.

Hello, Mr. Stieglitz.

You've gotten sun.

That's awful. Enough, enough.

I followed these filthy directions to
the letter. You could at least be grateful.

You know, I missed you.

- Mr. Stieglitz, you're a terrible liar.
- Seriously, Ms. O'Keeffe.

- I've been very lonely without you.
- Did you suffer?

- You know I did.
- Good.

Come sit down.

- Georgia...
- Don't ask me that.

No, listen to me. Listen to me.

How many more summers do we have?
How many?

Don't go back.

I'll make you happy. I promise.

I will.

You terrible man.

I love this one. See how it frames the sky?

And here's a great fragment.
Don't need to paint the whole thing.

Select, eliminate. Thank you, Mr. Stieglitz.

Don't you find it a bit creepy?

- Intimations of mortality and all that?
- Well, to me, they're very lively things.

I prefer the bones
to the real cows always swishing their tails.

And they don't smell.

Wrap yourself up,
'cause it's very cold out there.

Before you get a chill, all right?
I'll see you later.

It's very nice to see you again, Ms. O'Keeffe.

Did you have a nice trip?

I'll see you later, Dorothy.
See you at the gallery.

- Did you have to bring her here?
- Georgia...

What am I supposed to do?

You're off gallivanting in the desert
half the time.

I can't do everything by myself. I need help.

Dorothy Norman is
the largest single investor in the gallery.

Without her, we wouldn't have all of this.

Dearest Mabel, how I miss you and Tony
and life in Taos.

The night I left, the moonlight over
the Glorieta was like a dream.

The sagebrush white and frosty,
the river black and mysterious.

I long to return,
but I have taken a commission

which will keep me in New York
for several more months.

I am to paint a wall for
the Radio City Music Hall,

but one difficulty after another has kept me
from starting.

The whole affair is beginning to seem more
like burden than opportunity,

but there is something in me
that must finish jobs once started,

so I will have to keep missing you
for that much longer

and hurry back to the sky and the mountains
and the sun when my work is over.

My greetings to your horizon.
As ever, Georgia.

It's a bathroom, for God's sake! It's a toilet!

No, it's the ladies' lounge,
and it's twice the size of this apartment.

Georgia O'Keeffe is gonna paint the walls of
a pissoir over my dead body!

Well, then, fine.
If that's the way you want it...

- I'm gonna call Mr. Deskey...
- No, no, you will not.

You are not calling Mr. Deskey.

- Behind my back.
- You do not need to call anybody.

Behind my back.
I have to read about it in the newspaper?

- I have already agreed.
- To what?

- That's my business.
- For how much?

For how much? Come on.
Are you afraid to tell me?

- No, I am not afraid to tell you.
- Well, tell me.

I am receiving $1,500 and it is my business!

I got you $28,000 for a lousy bunch
of calla lilies, for God's sake!

I could have got you just as much
for your stinking wall!

Who negotiated this?

It's the biggest single drop in value
since the Wall Street crash!

You have no idea
what damage you're doing to yourself!

I will not be spoken to as if I'm a child.

But you're behaving like a child!

You have no idea what work I've done
to make something of you,

and you piss it away
on a room full of toilets.

- Make something of me?
- Yes!

- Make something of me?
- Yes!

I made something of myself!

And I will continue to make something
of myself with or without you!

Go on, go on, then! Let's see how you do!

Yes, 'cause you think that
I can do nothing without you!

You think that I am nothing without you!
Look at me!

Look at me! I am something!

And I will still be something
when you're dead and buried

and in the grave and out of my life forever!

- Yeah.
- Alfred, I didn't mean that.

- No, you're right.
- I didn't mean it. I promise.

- You'll be all right.
- I promise I didn't mean it.

You'll still be here when all the things
I've worked for will be gone, disappeared.

- I didn't mean it.
- Just rocks in the desert.

No, no. It's not true. I didn't mean it.
Honest, I didn't.

What's the matter? What's wrong?

What is it? Alfred?

- Cramps. It's been happening.
- What? Tell me, what's been happening?

My brother says sympathy cramps
for Dorothy.

- The pregnancy.
- What pregnancy?

Dorothy, she's pregnant again, and I feel it.

- You feel it? You feel what?
- Her pain. I swear I do.

- Georgia, I'm scared.
- For God's sake.

- What if it means...
- For God's sake.

What if it means the child's gonna be mine?
What do I do then?

Oh, God.

- What do I do?
- Oh, you

stupid, stupid man! You child!
You reckless, unbearable idiot!

I could kill you. I swear I could strangle
the breath out of you with my bare hands.

Ms. O'Keeffe, how's it going down here?
Everything all right?

- Where is she?
- Go sit down for a moment, Alfred.

I don't want to sit down.
I want to see Georgia.

- You're not gonna see her.
- Why?

- What's the matter?
- I'm not gonna let you see her.

Are you out of your mind?

You're a dangerous man, Alfred.
You have no idea what you are doing.

- What am I doing?
- You're killing her.

If you were holding a pillow over her face,
you couldn't be more culpable.

- But I love her.
- Do you?

She's my wife.

Gather had his own women,
and I haven't been the perfect husband,

but we were never unkind to our women.
We were never cruel as you are.

Your cruelty is vicious, Alfred.
It cuts like a knife.

She's the one who keeps leaving me.
Don't forget that.

And now because you can't control her,
you want to destroy her.

Christ Almighty, I would leave you myself.
You're weak and a coward and a bully!

- You don't understand.
- This is my hospital and my patient,

and you are forbidden access to her.
Good day.

We're brothers, for God's sake.

And of that fact I can only say
that I am ashamed.

Give minutes.

Well, at last.

You know, I wanted to come sooner,
but Lee wouldn't let me.

Really. He was convinced I'd do more harm
than good.

So, I humored him.

Still, I didn't think you'd be in here this long.

It's long enough.

I don't know how you can stand it.
Not much to look at.

So, now,

I started putting together the annual show.

I think it's very good timing.

Everybody knows about your, you know,
emotional difficulties.

There's a lot of sympathy for you.
I think we'll do very well.

I picked mostly the white stuff,
the shells, the purple callas,

that weed, the Jimsonweed,

and then some of the white abstractions.

There's a market for white at the moment.

Some Chinese hogwash about yin and yang,

and earth and sky, masculine, feminine,
you know.

So, it's perfect timing. It's good for you.

And good for me.

What do you say?

All right, I'll take that as a yes.

So, now, you just get yourself better,

I'll hang the show,
and I'll have it up when you get out of here.

Give the press something to write about.
Rising from the ashes, blah, blah, blah.

Well...

I better say goodbye.

Bye, then.

Right.

- How is she?
- She's fine. Fine.

She loved the idea of the show.
She loved the flowers, too.

It's gonna be so great to get going again.

We're a team, you see? Always were.
We think the same.

Well, we're a marriage.

O'Keeffe and Stieglitz.
Always was, always will be.

Yes, it's a marriage.

It's taken me nearly 18 months to begin
to try to paint again.

In this time, so many things have turned
over in me and come out clear to me.

I feel like a reed blown about by the winds
of my habits, my affections, things that I am.

And I find myself moving more and more
to a kind of aloneness.

Not because I wish it so,
but because there seems no other way.

No other way if I am to be what I need to be.

I must be apart now. I see that now.

It's clear to me
that we cannot meet each other's needs,

and I must admit
that there is some strange sense of relief

that you have someone else to care for you
in a way that is impossible for me.

I still miss you terribly even though I'm glad
to be gone, to be alone.

Alfred?

So, what do you think?

Very good.
This one is upside down, but I like it.

Show didn't do very well.

But we did sell one painting,
irony of ironies,

to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

An O'Keeffe at the Metropolitan.
What do you say to that?

Well... Well, that's wonderful.

I wanted to surprise you.

An American woman at the Metropolitan.

- Do you see what we've achieved?
- Yes, I do see.

Got another surprise for you.

I found you a studio at the Shelton
just upstairs from the apartment.

I put a deposit on it. It's all yours.

And if you ever feel like seeing me,
I'll be handy, just downstairs, so to speak.

I might use a corner of it for myself,
but I won't disturb you or your privacy.

- Alfred...
- No, no, no, no, no, no.

It's fine. It's fine. We can afford it.

Alfred, listen to me.

I'm leaving.

But you've only just arrived.

I'm on the train for Chicago and then
I'm changing this afternoon for New Mexico,

and I wanted to come
and say goodbye to you.

- Too fast.
- I owe you so much.

I don't want your gratitude!

But I am grateful, despite everything.

Lee thinks I'm cruel.

But I'm not, not here, not in my heart.

No. Not in your heart.

Nor in mine.

In my heart,

I have only loved you,
and I'll love you forever.

But, but, but. I hear a but coming.

Yes. But I have to leave.

- You won't be happy without me, you know.
- I know. I'll be miserable.

I know I'm not your better half, but...

I am half of you, more than half.

Much more.

My life, my work, everything.

It's yours. It's all yours.

But you see, that's why I have to leave.

I have to take what's yours and make it mine.

- Please let me go, Mr. Stieglitz. Please.
- All right, all right, all right. You go. Go.

But you'll be back.

- Will l?
- We're not finished yet.

Not yet, Ms. O'Keeffe.

But for now, you go. Go.
Go west, young woman. Go west.

I'll be here. I'll be waiting.

- Alfred...
- Go, go, go, go.

Dear Ms. O'Keeffe, what you say is all true.

You have found yourself, are yourself,
all health and life as I wished for you.

I have succeeded, and so have you.

But we have lost a part of each other.
That's the irony of our lives.

I love you, Georgia. Don't you know it?

I'd like to die in your arms.
That's my one great wish.

I was in the supermarket
in Espanola buying groceries

when the news came to me
that he had suffered a stroke.

I went straight to the airport
from the checkout counter,

arrived in time to sit with him until the end.

I can still see to the end of my arm,
so I can still work.

But the world is a blur now.

I see it mostly from memory,
and I can still feel it.

I can still feel the light. Can you feel that?

So much to do, so much to paint.

You know, sometimes when I get an idea
for a picture, I think, "How ordinary.

"Why should I paint some old rock,
some old hill,

"or flower that I can barely see anymore?

"Why not go for a walk instead?"

But then I realize that to someone else,
it may not seem ordinary at all.

So I do it as best I can.

And when it's done, I think, "Now,
what would Mr. Stieglitz think of this?"

Because, the truth is,
I would rather have him like something,

anything, I had done
more than anyone else I know.