i apologize for being so long absent. i am now no stranger to death, to sorrow, to loss. we are indeed well acquainted, which i suppose is not without its benefits.
however, it does take its toll on one's artistic abilities and motivations, every stirring biding its time until transition gives way to habit and some mysterious catalyst brings it to light and some need spurs it to action. on that note, i must confess to having been escorted out of the vancouver art gallery, having found some of this catalyst in the guise of a surrealist exhibition (the colour of my dreams: the surrealist revolution in art). i didn't realize the gallery had closed and was informed as much by a security guard on his rounds. any enriching gallery experience seems to include some 'exchange' with security guards, all innocent enough.
a friend recently told me: 'not only are you good at [art], but you have a mind for it. you think about it on a deeper level and have a wide scope.' the challenge has been issued. having worn thin my stash of ready excuses and delays, i must accept it.
but, to bed. to dreams. to the troubled realms where the good art grows.
1 comment:
amen. sleep well.
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