Contemplating, as usual.
o I've gotten to the part in "Diary" (yes, I take forever to finish books, shoot me) where the main character is proposed to by her now deceased husband. Apparently all he needed to do was show her his sloppily pierced nipple (he used a brooch) to snag her. It was at an art gallery that displayed some of her work, AND the first time they had ever officially spoken. So instead of just saying "What a dumbass" and flipping to the next page, like any normal person would (and probably should) do, I sat and tried to figure out why. What would possess a girl to promise to share her life with someone... on a whim? I'd like to be my idealistic self right now and assume it was love at first sight, but any somewhat level-headed person knows that it doesn't exist. If it does, and things do work out, the two people are extremely fortunate or just both unbelievably agreeable. Anyhow, this is what automatically came to mind:
There's something about artists that is so rushed. So "right from the mind to the paper". Most are not the calculating, logical type. Very messy and instinctual. Helplessly romantic. Idiotic, in some cases. It's the inspiration they're given in these situations that grabs hold of their wrists and says "There's something here! Don't you see it?" with incredible urgency that makes you feel as if you don't react quickly enough, no matter how long it takes to perceive it. Unusual and shocking things are beautiful to them. They glow so brightly that it feels as if it's gone to waste unless you write them, sing about them, draw them... you want to study them and share them as if they are prized possessions. Hold on to them, keep them safe in your memory, almost cling to them. I suppose she was fascinated by Peter and needed to know more about him, probably due to his air of mystery and frustratingly simple understanding of what he was doing. She reacted to him as any artist would react to one of those works of art that you just could not figure out, but felt strangely drawn to. And perhaps artists gravitate towards other artists in hopes that they share a mutual understanding (or rather, misunderstanding) of their lives. Of all life.
I went on for a bit.
And then I turned the page.
There's something about artists that is so rushed. So "right from the mind to the paper". Most are not the calculating, logical type. Very messy and instinctual. Helplessly romantic. Idiotic, in some cases. It's the inspiration they're given in these situations that grabs hold of their wrists and says "There's something here! Don't you see it?" with incredible urgency that makes you feel as if you don't react quickly enough, no matter how long it takes to perceive it. Unusual and shocking things are beautiful to them. They glow so brightly that it feels as if it's gone to waste unless you write them, sing about them, draw them... you want to study them and share them as if they are prized possessions. Hold on to them, keep them safe in your memory, almost cling to them. I suppose she was fascinated by Peter and needed to know more about him, probably due to his air of mystery and frustratingly simple understanding of what he was doing. She reacted to him as any artist would react to one of those works of art that you just could not figure out, but felt strangely drawn to. And perhaps artists gravitate towards other artists in hopes that they share a mutual understanding (or rather, misunderstanding) of their lives. Of all life.
I went on for a bit.
And then I turned the page.