February 2012
8 posts
I am after God—or rather—I am after the sublime thrill of the knowledge that inanimate forces which could extinguish me are omnipresent and vast. Those powers that carry the potential to smash my every atom lap around my ankles, an undertow of an angry ocean. Space is this sea in its own black night, twinkling with starlit wavelets illuminated by an other-dimensional moon. And yet I stand...
I am very interested in God. I enjoy having God on my dissecting table and seeing how the pieces come apart and go together.
Picasso
Bacchanal with Minotaur, MoMA collection, photo by Renzo Dionigi.
Perhaps this seems obvious to some, but it just occurred to me: Picasso wasn’t a painter. He was a drawer. (I wish that term wasn’t so woefully inadequate.) I haven’t yet read Richardson’s biography of the artist, so forgive me if this is an insight others have made time and again. And this is not a...
January 2012
22 posts
1 tag
December 2011
1 post
1 tag
November 2011
1 post
October 2011
11 posts
The Internet is the new NYC.
“Wanting to meet an author because you like his work is like wanting to meet a...”
– Margaret Atwood (@MargaretAtwood via French By Design)
September 2011
7 posts
“The spectator who in front of my paintings will ask, “What does it mean?” has...”
– Jack Tworkov
