Inspired by Yeats

We took a jaunt to the National Gallery of Ireland today for our society class. Their special exhibit going on now is "Paintings from Poland", showcasing many Polish artists categorized in three genres. I noticed that in the wing devoted to Symbolism, several artists used flowers and serpants in the most effective ways. In Edward Okun' "We and the War", two realistic humans dressed in black hold a delicate flower in the midst of fighting snakes with butterfly wings. The snakes were so intertwined that the only things that were defined were the black clothes the couple had on. Symbolism.
My favorite piece was a humble painting by Helen Mabel Trevor, titled "The Fisherman's Mother". An old woman that was hunched over, steadied by her cane draped in rosary beads, was turned breath taking by just the right wrinkles in her skin and clothes being highlighted.
The famous Yeats family made an appearance as well. This was the only Irish painters that I found inspiring. Jack Yeats' style is choppy like Van Gogh but (for lack of a better word) muddied like Monet. Yet the thing that defines Yeats' masterpieces is what doesn't immediately catch your eye. His figures are like ghosts among his strokes, which takes a while for your eyes to adjust and find their faces. It is then that you understand the title that goes with the painting.
William Butler Yeats, brother of Jack and famous writer (and so much more), has his own exhibit at the National Library that we saw on Friday. Yeats had a way with words and tying in traditional Irish folklore with current events of his time. He was huge around the turn of the century, and is known for his famous poem, "Easter 1916". This man did such incredible things. He reminds me a lot of my brother, always thinking about what he could do next, those wheels in his mind always turning. Even though he was still writing and funding projects and opening theaters well into his seventies, he wrote at a young age, "I am persuaded that our intellects at twenty contain all the truths we shall ever find..."
Although this man influenced the country to retrace its roots and reinstilled much pride, Yeats himself was never able to learn the Irish language. This boggles my mind. His imagination and knowledge of Ireland was so expansive...why couldn't he learn the language after promoting it so much?
I have four months to find out.