Lee Bontecou makes capital "S" sculptures. I am afraid to make my sculptures. They are going to occupy space and stare back at me. I yelled at my mother when I was in high school: "Why did you have me?! Why did you bother? Why did you try so hard? Look at me! I'm hideous! My clothes are disgusting. I'm ugly. I hate you." This is what the sculptures will say to me. They are going to HATE me. And still, I am going to have them. Idiot.
"There's an art of attending to weather, to the route you take, to the landmarks along the way, to how if you turn around you can see how different the journey back looks from the journey out, to reading the sun and moon and stars to orient yourself, to the direction of running water, to the thousand things that make the wild a text that can be read by the literate. The lost are often illiterate in this language that is the language of the earth itself. . ." - Rebecca Solnit, A Field guide to Getting Lost.
3 comments:
I hear that! I'm trying to revise my novel right now. Why do I bother when it sucks so bad? Why am I wasting my time doing this when I could be knitting and watching Star Trek on Netflix?
Um, I spent the last two hours on Tunisian crochet and The Next Generation. Ok, it was four hours. But I managed to felt, blog, tear paper for pulp and read. Maybe not enough to warrant a four hour break.
I want to marry you both. Artists who dig Star Trek....my kind of people.
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