The Diary of Queen Mothy |
Life As Art written @ 10:52 PM on March 22, 2004 Consider this philosophical moment, brought to you by Sam: In painting class we are working on a still life of a motley arrangement. The one thing that irritates me about still lives set up in a classroom is that many of the arrangements don't make any sense (i.e. putting a cheap stuffed animal with a beer bottle in the middle of a composition of fruit), but that's besides the point. I set up my easel and my canvas by the classroom door to get a certain angle-- artistic circumstance, you might say-- and about twenty minutes into my painting time, I noticed a boy leaning up against a wall scribbling furiously out in the hall on a sketchbook. What an uncomfortable position, thought I, to be taking notes. Why doesn't he just use the couch and the table out there? Silly me, it didn't occur to me that I had suddenly become the object of his intense studies. As I was passing by on break, I passed a glance at his sketchbook and saw how he captured my contrapposto "concentration stance," my wispy hair tied back with my red bandana (I had my Bohemian "babushka" look going today), and even had the sensitivity to record my red coral necklace. I've never been anyone's model before. Flattering. Anyway, my philosophical musing of the day is two-fold: it's interesting to note how while I was creating art, this boy was creating art from a person who was creating art, and so the "cycle" of creation renewed itself instantly; secondly, you never know when your simple everyday acts-- standing, walking, brushing a piece of hair from your eyes-- can be seen as completely beautiful from someone else, can in fact be a work of art in itself. If people began living as if they were moving, breathing works of art-- and we all are-- then I reckon no artist will ever starve, or that every artist will die of exhaustion trying to capture the essence of that.
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
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