(no subject)
I had so much fun at the art museum today. I don't know why I don't go more often. I'm going to start. And even though Tyler is brilliant and we had amazing discussion/arguments on art, I found myself at some points just wishing I'd have gone by myself. It just felt like such a personal thing, I don't know. I'd love nothing more than to just waste hours there, just walking around, for no reason in particular, thinking. Hanging out with myself. In public. And being left alone.
I could talk about art and some stuff I saw, but instead I'm just going to talk about THE one thing that really fucking hit me and stuck with me. I saw it, fucking died, died again when I saw the title of it and read the card (I was full on FLAILING. In the ART MUSEUM), and then it was on my mind for the rest of the day. We went back to look at her again before we left.
Untitled - A posthumous portrait of the artist's mother
by Morris Kantor
I don't even fucking know. I wish I would have written down what the card said. But it talked about how her face even looks half-decomposed as a representation of her state in our space. "Our space", I freaked out and died. And then how those lines fade into the background to mark her transition and god she looks like such a fucking CREEP and what kind of a fucked up relationship would someone have to have with their mother in order to paint her like that after she died. I was just so intrigued by it and it scared me but at the same time I really felt for these people, both the artist and the mother. I just feel such a story here. I do not even know. I was just overwhelmed with intrigue and depth and I COULD NOT GET THIS OFF MY MIND. I just want to know more.
I could talk about art and some stuff I saw, but instead I'm just going to talk about THE one thing that really fucking hit me and stuck with me. I saw it, fucking died, died again when I saw the title of it and read the card (I was full on FLAILING. In the ART MUSEUM), and then it was on my mind for the rest of the day. We went back to look at her again before we left.
Untitled - A posthumous portrait of the artist's mother
by Morris Kantor
I don't even fucking know. I wish I would have written down what the card said. But it talked about how her face even looks half-decomposed as a representation of her state in our space. "Our space", I freaked out and died. And then how those lines fade into the background to mark her transition and god she looks like such a fucking CREEP and what kind of a fucked up relationship would someone have to have with their mother in order to paint her like that after she died. I was just so intrigued by it and it scared me but at the same time I really felt for these people, both the artist and the mother. I just feel such a story here. I do not even know. I was just overwhelmed with intrigue and depth and I COULD NOT GET THIS OFF MY MIND. I just want to know more.