Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Thursday July 1, 2010

Thursday morning, I've been waiting for July first and I'm not sure why. Maybe the way it sounds, like tinkling bells in my ears. Not that I want to wish away my life, but something about July the first excites me. I don't know where this wants to go, or even if it want to "go."

The thing about time is, that there isn't enough. Today I would like to be in the studio, following my own path, discovering answers to my own questions, but, not today. Today I have to go to the gallery, so first things first. Perhaps this afternoon will be my own.

I am thinking of a quote by Meyer Schapiro, "...the arts have become more deeply personal, more intimate, more concerned with experiences of a subtle kind."

1 comment:

erin said...

this pivot, around time, annell, is essential and elemental. it is a part of the fabric of us, the contradiction of us, and it is within the contradiction we find our existence. i've just recently found rilke's ninth elegy and i find that all (?) of my questions and answers are found here. here is a bit:

Why, when this span of life might be fleeted away
as laurel, a little darker than all
the surrounding green, with tiny waves on the border
of every leaf (like the smile of a wind): - oh, why
have to be human, and shunning Destiny,
long for Destiny?...

there is a real mystery in time, but how it opens a spot in the pool of the water of being so that we might be.