She lay on the bed, alternating between reading a book and napping. I worked on the floor, crouched over several yards of unstretched canvas. Periodically I would get up and talk above her , watching the light play over her skin, the way one of her eyebrows arched, the flash of glass-blue in her eyes as she turned away from the window. All these hundred things I saw, or more properly, absorbed in instants. Sometimes I would lay down next to her, and then my skin my nose my ears would see her.
What was I making on the floor on that unfurled canvas ? Not quite a portrait, not quite a map, not quite the diagram of another human being.
The one single important thing one learns from history is that NOTHING IS PERMANENT. What’s yours was someone else’s. Language evolves, merges. Cultures aren’t monolithic or impermeable. History reminds you AGAIN AND AGAIN that the world is ROUND -boundaries are non-existent… people, animals, plants, diseases, cultures and genes have roamed, mingled and traded places around this sphere for milennias. Most of the evils and destruction wrought by men to other men come from the concept of PERMANENCE. When someone thinks something is permanent, something is THEIRS or can BE theirs ( you can’t posses something that’s impermanent ; possession defines identity), then they will do everything they can to preserve and protect it, to propagate it, fight and kill for it to keep other peoples’ grubby hands from getting it. And they will do everything they can to mold history into their image by destroying history itself.
(some recent art )
I could never understand how these things happen. for years you share the most intimate things, then suddenly a day comes and things feel “awkward “. timing is off, things don’t fit; hands don’t fit, faces don’t fit. and then there’s no going back. something is severed, ruptures. you become strangers to each other. and so I’m always left with the thought in the end, as if it was some type of unbreakable principle, that:
what comes, comes.
what goes, goes.
what stays, stays.
and one always braces for the worst
( recent portrait studies ) )
“All women are beautiful.”
I think that statement still doesn’t quite get the point. It smacks of the superficial, of external valuations- and the word “beautiful” itself is extremely problematic. The statement ” All women are interesting”, takes it to a different level, takes it away from questions of what is the “correct” shape, etc. and instead refocuses on what is intrinsic, developmental, evolutionary, experiential, internal.
“All women are interesting.”
And its ultimate logical conclusion: “Everyone is interesting.”