Friday, November 5, 2010


Me, on Boucher etal.


A Boucher is about as decorative as the touch of a desired ones hand.Innocent.Meaningless yet overwhelming.
Is beauty definable much less describable? Is there content to beauty?Ugliness?Do they exist as a an established entity?Are they less than high minded subject matter?Is lust less true and valuable than the politics of global warming?
Art is for no one.It just is.It is a singular undertaking with supposed popular appeal. To make an art for others is politics.The most vapid of endeavors.
A late Rembrandt self portrait is not about looking at a likeness of an aging Rembrandt.It's about the paint becoming flesh.Alchemy pure and simple.The transformation of not only base matter (colored paste) to living material but the miracle of making something as idiosyncratic as the image of an aging,funny looking man speak to us as if with the voice of God.There is no aesthetic to this.No explaining.There is only acknowledgement.Kinship.
True art can never just illustrate or explain or enhance or make meaningful.Art can only speak to all when it ignores that it does.
That Rembrandt was not painted for anyone but Rembrandt.That's why its so true and moving.

"Aesthetics for the artist is like ornithology is for the birds"-Barnett Newman.

"If it looks isn't" Me

November 30, 2009

Thursday, November 4, 2010


And never the twain shall meet.

Which one is me? Which one you?

Blood of Jesus!

Such intensity at all times-

“ I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.
— Sylvia Plath

When all was potential

“ When you’re young, you think everything you do is disposable. You move from now to now, crumpling time up in your hands, tossing it away. you’re your own speeding car. You think you can get rid of things, and people too - leave them behind. You don’t yet know about the habit they have, of coming back. Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you’ve been.
The Blind Assassin, Margaret Atwood (via expose) (via sixthsense)

Have no idea

Tuesday, November 2, 2010


"If women liked sex as much as men, there would be straight cruising areas in the way there are gay cruising areas. Women would go and hang around in churchyards thinking, “God, I’ve got to get my rocks off”, or they’d go to Hampstead Heath and meet strangers to shag behind a bush. ‘It doesn’t happen. Why? Because the only women you can have sex with like that wish to be paid for it... I feel sorry for straight men. The only reason women will have sex with them is that sex is the price they are willing to pay for a relationship with a man, which is what they want. Of course, a lot of women will deny this and say, “Oh no, but I love sex, I love it!” But do they go around having it the way that gay men do?" - Stephen Fry. And I know it's accurate because I read it in the Daily Mail.