| now you see me, now you don't...i am back writing at wordpress again.
some computer enginerd really need to figure out how to export xanga data over to wordpress.... |
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| random schoolwork
found. conte crayon on mulberry paper. 2007.
solitude. oil on canvas. 2005.
detail of a larger figure painting, for a figure painting class. 2005. |
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| complexity in simplicitySometimes I look at art and find myself with no response, because I don't know if I am not understanding the piece, or if there really is nothing for me grasp in it. I wonder...am I really ignorant, or is the artist just struggling?
This painting, at first glance, might be one of those. It is a good example of what someone might look at and say, "Is that supposed to be art, because I so could have done that myself". Oh really. (Yes, maybe in terms of mere craftsmanship, anyone can paint stripes onto a square. But does every random person have the ability to invite another to think and evoke in them a response with nothing but simple grey stripes on a white canvas?)
I think that if you stand in front of the physical piece for a few minutes, you will see that there is more than what immediately meets the eye.
Agnes Martin's work has a definite spiritual presence to it. Without overstating anything at all, it is quietly imbued with a sense of grace and placid openness. It shares with us the beauty of the woman's intuitive sensibilities, which is verbally expressed in the eloquent verse below.
This painting shows us that infinite complexity can be found in what appears to be very simple.
Agnes Martin
1997
I can see humility
Delicate and white
It is satisfying
Just by itself. . .
And Trust
absolute trust
a gift
a precious gift
I would rather think of humility than
anything else.
Humility, the beautiful daughter
She cannot do either right or wrong
She does not do anything
All of her ways are empty
Infinitely light and delicate
She treads an even path.
Sweet, smiling, uninterrupted, free.
. . Agnes Martin 1973
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| naked
do you like my thick daikon legs?
juicy mangoes
on a tree trunk waist
would you like me better if I looked
like her?
will I satisfy
satiate?
and if I do
what does that make me?
a woman, desirable?
a bad girl?
I stand
staring at my boy hips
that don't hold the jeans just right
and tell the other women
airbrushed to perfection
to leave My mirror.
we stand alone
my reflection and I
satisfied.
-More Than Serving Tea |
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