Modigliani lady

There came a point in his life when he felt called upon to rid himself of nearly all the art he had created up until then. Having destroyed his art, he set about to destroy himself. But something went wrong. For all the narcotics and the absinthe and the hashish, his vision only became clearer. A flare of art haloed his way out.

Of course, he died penniless. Tubercular meningitis. He was 35.