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And You Know

May 4, 2012

and you know it’s not about the books, about authors, famous or otherwise.

they are mere milestones. a time, a place, a state of being and of mind.

for instance, Gunter Grass, The Flounder. reminds me of Wilson Avenue in Chicago. the train rides, a roommate. that girl. roads not taken, and roads taken. the bluest shadows on snow- bluer than any sky or ocean I’ve seen

the books, the authors  you see are mere excuses. i want to examine the impression on the skin peeled around them ( like browning petals around a bulb) , the impressions on them. casts of my discarded faces.

you pick this book or that author not to absorb ideas but to find echoes of your own, inchoate and garbled.

we are dogs on the scent of ourselves

and the the world is pure music and we are nothing  but tuning forks. we learn or not learn or learn clumsily to vibrate.

In other news, I made it back to Spring Studio again last night. They had a male model . After drawing the female form for so long , I found the male body crude and unsatisfying. It’s sort of like coming back to your drab  little hometown after a magnificent trip around the world

 

(some recent drawings)

 

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. May 4, 2012 11:02 am

    this is great stuff! truly! thanks for writing! (and the sketches are always energetic)

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