Yesterday our WCAGA book club looked at Ann Truitt's work. So minimal. She said in her writing that she was expressing her emotions. Whew! That had to be her version of what it was like to be emotional. Elegant?
Yes. Definitely elegant in the simplicity of her lines, the avoidance of a curve or a random spot. But emotional? That emotion could be strength, but a canvas with only off-white paint on it, what is that saying? There was a time decades ago when that was original. It makes me wonder whether original is enough. And, yet, I was not in the majority at this gathering. Most of my friends seemed to think that Truitt's work was powerful and did something for them.
Along these lines -- today is supposedly Shakespeare's birthday. It was a shock to hear that major literary figures like Tolstoy had no respect at all for the bard's work. It's hard to imagine anyone dismissing the author who wrote "to be or not to be..." and making small of him. As an English major, I think I need to cover my ears.
As the collectors of "Points of Light" mourn the passing of their famous and extremely wealthy creator, it does give one pause. Does history really sort it out? Maybe, we all agree the ancient cave drawings were brilliant.
The painting below -- an unfinished escape from the tedium of doing what I was supposed to do today. If it says anything, I'm not sure what it is. All I know is that there is joy in the process and it is my ultimate escape. I don't smoke, drink or do drugs...probably need an addiction of this sort.