For some reason this photo -- a local dock, reflected in the water -- has always appealed to me -- except for all the rusty colors; I'm really not that fond of those. But I love the structure and composition of it; it feels like a painting to me.
... and it leapt onto the page this morning for some reason -- I think perhaps in response to something I read in Kandinsky's Concerning the Spiritual in Art this morning: "Purely abstract forms are beyond the reach of the artist at present; they are too indefinite for him. To limit himself to the purely indefinite would be to rob himself of possibilities, to exclude the human element and therefore to weaken his power of expression.
On the other hand, there exists equally no purely material form. A material object cannot be absolutely reproduced. For good or evil, the artist has eyes and hands, which are perhaps more artistic than his intentions, and refuse to aim at photography alone.
...The impossibility and, in art, the uselessness of attempting to copy an object exactly, the desire to give the object full expression, are the impulses which drive the artist away from "literal" coloring to purely artistic aims."
Well hmm. I guess that explains why I'm wandering down this particular path -- and, at the same time, why it's such a struggle. I did break out the paints yesterday, but... ugh. I seem to be getting worse, not better. Thank heaven I have someone coming to help today!
(And, okay, it's on my mind: I went to see the opening preview of our local theater's production of The Full Monty last night, and it was absolutely incredible -- I sat with the cast from The Women -- the last show I was in -- and we laughed and cried and screamed our throats out. So. Much. Fun! I wish I could do with my art what they did with that show -- expose, touch, move, thrill, and awaken faith in the resourcefulness and joy of humanity. It was awesome!)