Jeanette Winterson
It's hard to read for long because she keeps stopping me dead with the total accuracy of her observations. Like the one I used here as a title.
She knows writing -- Oranges are not the only fruit, Why be happy when you can be normal, she's that Jeanette Winterson. And much more, dead-on brilliant, writing.
Here she's writing essays on art, starting with her own self-education in the visual arts, in which she honestly acknowledges being a beginner. But what a beginner!
And her grasp of the history of art and literature is dazzling. Easy to follow but very much in-depth in its observations.
She reminds us that art and music we accept now in the canon was originally groundbreaking and caused ructions. Not because the makers wanted ructions. They were just doing their job.
We know the first French impressionists' exhibits were physically threatened, critics hated and condemned them, screamed names at the artists.
She doesn't mention the opening performance of The Rite of Spring, but it literally broke down into a riot. People get very upset at new stuff, you might say.
Also at pictures that aren't a representation of something familiar, or tunes you can't sing to. Yet that's the job of art, not to confirm what we already know but to open new connections and possibilities. It's not about creating documentaries.
Every writer, any kind of artist with their own vision, in other words, doing their job, not just copying what's familiar, of any stature, even one as humble as your blog writer, has encountered ridicule, all the way to scorn and furious opposition and who do you think you are.
Today's Twitter pile-ons are just the modern version. It's okay, it's a feature, not a bug. You don't need to bother about outside negative criticism, because you can supply plenty of self criticism any time.
And artists are quite quick enough to jump on one another anyway, witness the parade of artists, Matisse, Braque etc who piled on Gertrude Stein because they claimed her Autobiography of Alice B Toklas was not factually correct about them!
Failing to see the whole thing's a put on! And that literature can play fast and loose with shapes and concepts. Just like painting..oh. A good bit of sexism there, too, I'm guessing.
Just read Winterson. She gets it. She's not angry, just explanatory, and very readable.
And please share your opinions if you have read her. I now own the Alice B Toklas on my Kindle at an amazing level of cheapitude. About time I read it.
Chop wood, carry water. Today was also about making a big pot of soup, which doesn't heat up the kitchen.
Butternut squash, red lentils, carrots, the last couple of potatoes from last week, home made stock, milk added at the end.
That day I spent sleeping also involved doing laundry and baking a batch of bread, seen here, the bread, that is. Wholewheat, white and oatmeal.
I'm now set with a week's worth of soup and bread and fruit. I think I'll survive.
Still prey to nerves about the upcoming paperwork for the surgery, despite checking out yogic approaches to calm via the vagus nerve.
I'm usually more stressed out about the location, finding it, and the administrivia, than the surgery. I have excellent doctors. My own clerical/technical skills maybe not so much.
Since I have a complete set of vax and boosters, I don't need a Covid test before surgery. Just send a picture of the certificate. Still don't have the eyedrop Rx. I'll check again tomorrow. I'll be getting a packet of info in a a couple of days to tell me all the procedure again that we went through on the phone.
This has completely overtaken the osteoporosis concerns about which I'm seeing a rheumatologist next week. This is shaping up to be the Summer of the Doctors.
Well, Winterson and soup kept me happily occupied today, so there's that. Art and good food.
Graphite sticks, sharpie, colored pencils, watercolor crayons.
Still we rise.
Happy day everyone!
