The Arrogance of Perfection Supposedly this week I’m on staycaytion, but that didn’t keep me from digging into the newest installment in my severe case of Shiny Online Workshop Syndrome. I’m two-thirds of the way through an 8-week course on Persian Illuminate Carpet Pages from the Timurid period. This week I’m working my way through…
In contemporary critical art-speak circles, it’s quite fashionable to talk about whether an artist’s work is concept driven or process driven. Concept driven work refers to artists who start with an idea concerning meaning and everything else follows: design, medium, process, technique, etc are secondary. Process driven refers to artists whose work is led by…
Like books about books, music about music and musicians holds a special place in my list of most favorite things. Perhaps my overly meta-cognitive mind likes that hugely big picture perspective. Perhaps my need for exquisite and mesmerizing detail in service of that big picture relishes in the many rabbit holes of ponderance such creations…
One of my new favorite words is Hiraeth [hee-REY-eth], a Welsh word that I learned this past spring. Hiraeth lacks an exact English counterpart. It refers to the a yearning for or missing of a space or geography. It comes with a mixture of wistfulness, sadness, grief, and nostalgia for an ideal place of the…
Like so many things that I’ve watched struggle to evolve over the last 15 months, June, Juneteenth, and the holiday’s recent official, federal status have brought new light and some long awaited changes. Thinking about my posts from June of 2020, we’re a ways away from the National Guard driving tanks through my residential neighborhood…
As spring gently glides into summer, I’m thrillled to report that for once in over a decade, spring has actually been spring with only a handful of scorcher, orange alert days here in “Hotlanta.” Spending 99% of our time at home as we do, it has been nothing short of glorious. My shaded back yard…
I was three or four years old, and the climb up on the piano bench seemed like Everest but worth the adventure. Roddy Noll was a teenager, and, if possible, even more mischievous than he’d been as a child. He knew exactly how to stir up trouble and fun in a heartbeat: Play boogie woogie…
