Blog Archives

Pearls from artists* # 168

Barbara's studio

Barbara’s studio

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

How strange the human mind is!  When I first began, I think I should have been willing to work at it from the tops of a church steeple, whereas now, even to think of finishing requires a real effort.  And all this, simply because I have been away from it for so long.  It is the same with my picture and with everything else I do.  There is always a thick crust to be broken before I can give my whole heart to anything; a stubborn piece of ground, as it were, that resists the attacks of plough and hoe.  But with a little perseverance the hardness suddenly gives and it becomes so rich in fruit and flowers that I am quite unable to gather them all.

The Journal of Eugene Delacroix edited by Hubert Wellington

Comments are welcome!     

Pearls from artists* # 115

 

Giorgio de Chirico, "The Enigma of a Day," oil on canvas, 6' 1 1/4  x 55," MoMA

Giorgio de Chirico, “The Enigma of a Day,” oil on canvas, 6′ 1 1/4 x 55,” MoMA

* an ongoing series of quotations – mostly from artists, to artists – that offers wisdom, inspiration, and advice for the sometimes lonely road we are on.

 

THE DISQUIETING MUSES

From Two de Chiricos

[On Giorgio de Chirico]

 

Boredom sets in first, and then despair.

One tries to brush it off.  It only grows.

Something about the silence of the square.

 

Something is wrong; something about the air,

It’s color; about the light, the way it goes.

Something about the silence of the square.

 

The muses in their fluted evening wear,

Their faces blank, might lead one to suppose

Something about the silence of the square.

 

Something about the buildings standing there.

But no, they have no purpose but to pose.

Boredom sets in first, and then despair.  

 

What happens after that, one doesn’t care.

What brought one here – the desire to compose

Something about the silence of the square.

 

Or something else, of which one’s not aware,

Life itself, perhaps – who really knows?

Boredom sets in first and then despair…

Something about the silence of the square.

 

Mark Strand in Art and Artists:  Poems, edited by Emily Fragos

Comments are welcome!