No, I have neither forgotten nor neglected my promise to tell you about the second portrait of myself, and the big reveal, along with some meditation about visual portrayals of women, is currently in the making.
But it’s been très, très busy at work, not only with prep for upcoming classes, but especially with a Selection Committee I’m serving on for a Research Chair. This week we had public presentations, interviews, and then deliberations, so very full days. AND I’m fighting one of those summer colds — quite mild, but requiring as much sleep (and kleenex!) as I can fit in.
So, instead, you get yet more pictures from my deck of the sun rising over the Coast Mountains across the Strait from us. Sorry, but I am continually fascinated by the literally countless permutations in which light and H20 and particles of pollution combine to dazzle. . . And I must say that while clouds so often point toward less pleasant weather, they also make for more varied, generally more dramatic dawn displays. Without being too trite, perhaps there’s some sort of life metaphor there.
And to assure you that I am thinking about drawing, getting ready to write more about portraits, here is a pertinent passage I serendipitously came across yesterday in the wonderfully wise and perspicacious late-age memoir by Diana Athill, Somewhere Towards the End. Highly recommended reading.
Given a lot of money I would collect art, both drawings and paintings. There are many ways in which a painting can be exciting, but a drawing that thrills me is always one that has caught a moment of life. Drawings are what artists, great or small, do when they are working their way towards understanding something, or catching something they want to preserve: they communicate with such immediacy that they can abolish time. I possess a drawing by a Victorian artist of his wife teaching their little girl to read by candlelight; in a book about Pisanello, who lived in the fourteen-hundreds, I have four quick sketches he made of men who had been hung. Each, in its different way, makes one catch one’s breath: one might be there, looking through the eyes of the men who did those drawings. (Perhaps oddly, drawings presented as works of art are less likely to have this hallucinatory effect than private notes or studies.)
No frailty in that 89-year old voice, is there!
We’re heading over to the city today — we’ve got some time booked with a certain toddler, and our youngsters are putting together a family celebration of Pater’s retirement, very sweet of them. We’ll try to sneak in a dinner out to mark our recent 36th anniversary (already observed with a very nice meal at home), another visit to the Vancouver Art Gallery to see those drawings, and perhaps even catch a movie (I’d love to see I Am Love!). Sounds a bit too ambitious overall, and I suspect some goals will be jettisoned along the way — any weekend plans shaping up at your place?
Completly agree with Athill, if I won the lottery I have a mental list a mile long of art works I would like to own.
But yes, drawing is what makes me tick, having to stop and stare is ultimatly the most rewarding part of drawing. I particularly love the fleeting nature of mark making.
My favorite art is also drawings. Sketches for full paintings fascinate me. Also Christo, who made the whole process become the finished product.
Hope that your cold goes away quickly.
THose are lovely images of the Coastal Mountains, they change so much in different light.
BTW Happy Belated Anniversary.
Enjoy your weekend with the family.
Love that quote. And your beautiful sunrises and clouds …
I'm inspired to drag the young ones to a gallery this weekend, if we can find the time!
You live in the MOST BEAUTIFUL PLACE! I'd be taking photos of it constantly too.
Belated Happy Anniversary from me too. I was just thinking – we need to go almost another 20 years until we catch up with you (now at 18). I hope the retirement celebration goes well – this is a lovely gesture by the kids. I agree with K.Line – how do you ever get anything else done when you are at home? It's so beautiful! Patricia
Alison: Have you read her latest? it really is worth the time — a wonderful book!
LPC: I love exhibitions that include some of the working sketches alongside — it's fascinating to see the stages along the way, catch some of the energy of the thinking through the project. Saw some of Henry Moore's sketches this summer, alongside some of his smaller sculptures — captivating!
Hostess: They're so wonderful to watch, changing through the seasons and through the various weather systems — just for me!
Tiffany: I'll be curious to see, if you do manage to get to a gallery, what they respond to — kids are so great for giving us another perspective on art.
k-line: isn't it fabulous?! We're in the city right now, which I love, but I try to imagine giving up that view some day, and it's tough. . .
Patricia: It's funny to try to figure out how the years piled up so quickly — now, when I hear of 50th anniversaries, which used to seem amazing, I realize we're only 14 years away (and even that I can say "only" about 14 years. . . )!