…musings, misgivings, and general apprehensions…
June 18, 2014 in Artwork, Books, Poetry
– excerpted from the preface to My Bright Abyss by poet Christian Wiman
St. Jerome Writing
Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio
oil on canvas, completed 1607
© Bill Israel
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June 20, 2014 at 7:42 am
Rosa de los Vientos
Yes, poets will always tell you about that ‘somewhere else’ thing, which seems so fragile and I think I can understand it… Sometimes there are things we can make in the lively field of ‘art’ of which we do not entirely capture its process; it just seems to ‘appear’ through your hands, the flow thing. Which doesn’t mean it will become a ‘masterpiece’, that’s a step further, something for the happy few, the most talented I mean.
June 20, 2014 at 9:33 am
It’s interesting that you call it “fragile” – which it really is. So easily interrupted and discouraged by things that the artist is vulnerable to. But creating “art” – the process where you expose yourself to an audience, does demand a certain vulnerability. I had also read a quote from a scientist who explained that the artist’s eye really doesn’t exist. The eye only communicates what it sees to the brain which then filters it, interprets it, colors it, and rebuilds it. What comes out of our hands seemingly does come from “somewhere else”. How often does the brush in your hand disappear while you’re working? As far as determining a masterpiece, I would guess we leave that in the hands of the curators and wealthy patrons. The rest of us struggle in the middle… 🙂
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