The Sleeping Gypsy

Behold a scene that’s totally normal: a woman in a technicolor dreamcoat has decided the best place for a nap is a desolate, moonlit desert. She’s not alone, though. A lion has casually wandered by, not to devour her, but apparently just to sniff her shoulder and ponder the mysteries of the universe. This serene yet tense encounter is the whole vibe. The gypsy, with her mandolin and water jar, represents a kind of peaceful innocence, while the lion is either a lurking danger or a surprisingly chill protector. The composition is a delightful disregard for the rules. With its flat perspective and hard outlines, the scene feels like a dream you can’t quite explain. The artist threw together an Italian mandolin and an oriental robe, because why not? This strange mix is precisely what makes it compelling, a sort of precursor to Surrealism before it was cool. When this painting first appeared in 1897, it was mostly met with ridicule. The artist even tried to sell it to his hometown's mayor, who basically called it childish and refused. Decades later, it was found languishing in a Parisian charcoal merchant's shop. A gentle reminder that taste is subjective, and maybe don't store fine art with your coal. This artwork can be found at Museum of Modern Art.