Thursday, June 23, 2011

Does that look like writing to you?

Does that look like writing to you? Right there in the center of the picture, a bit blurry and difficult to make out... does it look like a line of text to you?  It looks like writing to me. 

I have an artagraph of a Caillebotte painting. Etude for Paris Street Rainy Day.  The original hangs in the Musée Marmottan Monet in Paris.  The original painting hung on Monet’s wall until he died.  I have to confess my regret at not having visited that museum little precious time I have spent in Paris, it must be something to see, and an original Caillebotte is always something to see, isn’t it?  The artagraph that hangs on my wall is an exact replica of the original, down to the brushstrokes.  And that looks like writing to me.  There are no mentions, studies, x-rays or articles about hidden text under Caillebotte’s brushstrokes in this painting. Experts have scrutinized this painting for over a hundred years and no one ever said “oh look, it’s writing”.  So it’s not writing.  But I’ll be damned if it doesn’t look like writing. It gets lost in the context of the whole painting.

not that

I believe my dog when she wags her tail. I believe in things that go bump in the night. I believe in impressionism. I believe in sunsets. I believe in pain. I believe in loss. I believe in saudade.  I believe I can be happy if I try. I believe in chocolate and wine. I believe in cold winter evenings. I believe in the unexpected. I believe in loving people I love. I believe in truth. I believe in honesty. I believe in dishonesty. I believe some people, but not most. I believe in trying, but not always. I believe in being kind, if I can. I believe in what I know, but mostly I believe that I don’t know. I believe in what money buys. I believe I need, and I believe I have. I believe it all. But I don’t believe that. I can’t believe that.