In the Picasso version, we have the closest to a pure expression sans our mundane subjectivity. There are shapes and colors but the ability to project morality and order upon it weakened. It is this final, morally and evolutionarily-bereft version that we find the greatest truth of aging.
Jeanne Louise Calment’s [other] claim to fame is the Feb. 21, 1875, listing in the birth register in Arles, the southern French city where she began her days and ended them.
She was 12 or 13 when she met Vincent Van Gogh in Arles, and she said later that he was ”very ugly, ungracious, impolite, sick — I forgive him, they called him loco.”