The creator of this painting smoked too much and he knew it.
One Sunday morning he walked past the edge of town and shot himself in the chest with a revolver.
He was 37.
The bullet was deflected by a rib bone and lodged near his spine. So he got up and walked back to town. The physicians were unable to remove the bullet so they left him alone in his room, smoking. When his brother was notified the next morning of all that had happened, he rushed to his bedside. The painter looked up and said, “The sadness will last forever.” And then he died.