(those pearls that were his eyes. look!)
I spent the better part of the day making aloo paratha, eeriely unconcerned that all I have for hours of labor is the neat arc of a burn on my left hand and six UFO shaped patties with crimped and upturned edges. The first came off of the skillet singed with a skull's face--no grin but a smirk or perhaps a leer instead. The second was impressed with a heart shaped marking, and aptly enough, it's the one that burned me.
***
KSG and I went to the Modernisms exhibit at the Whitney the other day, and after the third room of splotches and furrows and exuberent slashes of paint I wondered what it would be like to look at abstract art without an innate disposition to see figures. It's a terribly tright observation that things wouldn't look quite the same with different nature, different nurture, but somehow it was startling to me. Now I feel compelled to re-read the Third Critique...
***
KSG and I went to the Modernisms exhibit at the Whitney the other day, and after the third room of splotches and furrows and exuberent slashes of paint I wondered what it would be like to look at abstract art without an innate disposition to see figures. It's a terribly tright observation that things wouldn't look quite the same with different nature, different nurture, but somehow it was startling to me. Now I feel compelled to re-read the Third Critique...