“Any material may be used but the theme is the same and the response is the same for all artwork… we all have the same concern, but the artist must know exactly what the experience is. He must pursue the truth relentlessly.” – Agnes Martin
I like this idea of theme, response, and concern universally being the same, but the individual experience being the artistry– the search for our self inside the theme of sameness, is a type of love, really.
Like synchronized teeth brushing, elbow to elbow, in the bathroom, where we find each other: two little wilds, preparing for sleep.
Let’s do this forever. We already have and will try again tomorrow.
Don’t you remember?
A stranger said– yes, I declare you two little wilds in a sea of sameness– with a gavel, I wish she had really hit a gavel, instead she rang a bell. Her hair was a wig, or was of that quality. There was a cake. It was constructed of cardboard, at first, then later, it was rebuilt entirely of tinfoil.
Oh, yes, I do. I will.
So, Agnes Martin, I like what you are saying.
Conceptually, I am scared of making mistakes in life and in art. I wonder if it’s the sameness or the individual experience which heightens this fear?
Regardless, I want to confront it– a piece of paper, what is not written, horizon after horizon. So far as we can see. I hope you don’t mind, I will sleep here for a while with my husband and try again tomorrow, and again, and again, and again.
To see what comes up. To pursue. Yours forever, relentlessly.