"Painting into Light"

"Painting into Light" is an art exhibition at Guilford College in Greensboro, a one-man show by my friend George Wingate.

Thursday night Bob and I went to the campus to hear the artist talk about his work. George was his intriguingly digressive, imaginative, thoughtful self, before a packed SRO house. I didn't take notes and couldn't begin to quote from his outpourings.

But there was a line on the wall in his artist's statement that is well worth passing on:

"It took a long time to discover that one can't make a career out of being somebody else. I still have to fight being somebody else. The artist even has to fight to not be what he/she was yesterday."

George was in high school with Husband Bob, which would make him approximately 67 years old. And he has been a full-time artist for decades, with his work on the cover of American Artist and well and lengthily reviewed in the New York Times. He's still engaged in a daily wrestle.

If you are too, you're in good company.





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Charming Persistence

Having trouble getting yourself moving? Have a look at this wee newborn elephant's first efforts to stand.

Also, note to writers of books: novelist Bill Henderson has a good three-part post on getting an agent.

And Happy Thanksgiving!


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"Fear Less. Live More."

What caught my attention was an ad for a Lincoln in an old New Yorker. Standing beside the car in the picture was a twentyish woman, radiantly beautiful, an athlete, doing her stretches. Then I noticed her legs: one was metal.

Sarah Reinertsen is the first woman to complete the Hawaii Ironman triathlon with an artificial leg. This race involves 112 miles on a bike, as well as long stretches of swimming and running.

In the sky of that stirring picture was a quote: "Don't ever give up...Not once. Not ever. My dream is to do extraordinary things every day."

Sort-a puts any holiday pressures into perspective, doesn't it? (Of course she may at this moment be totally wrecked over trying to deal with a turkey.)


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Thanksgiving Stuffing

Usually for potlucks, I choose the lucky pot at Whole Foods on the way to the event.

This week, for unknown reaons, I'm going to cook my own Thanksgiving pot. My assignment is stuffing for twelve. I found a recipe that is perfect for those who have issues with authority (or simply crave creative latitude): one third of any combo of the items on list A, with two-thirds of any combo of items on list B. Stir. Bake.

I actually have some curiosity about how this will turn out. Will report.



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He Does It His Way

Turning through an old Utne Reader last night, I came across a stunningly bold artist: Wolfgang Laib.

One site I checked him out on called him a Post-Minimalist. Never heard of that before, but I'm in favor.

What Laib does is take materials like milk or pollen or rice and use that organic life-generating stuff to create an imagethat's as simple as a rectangle or a cone.

The picture I saw last night was a large rectangle on a stone courtyard floor made of yellow-gold pollen that looked like a block of sunshine. I couldn't believe how radiant it was, and that it wasn't electrified. It glowed against the gray. (He collected every grain of that pollen himself, and that's an important part of his process.

He also makes glossy white surfaces out of milk on marble. Eerie-looking. Moon-ish.

Imagine telling your father that's what you're going to do when you get out of college. Or your spouse. Or your art dealer.

But it's astonishing work. Painter like the Luminists specialized in representing light. This guy seems to be working with the actual substance of light.

(I told husband Bob about him artist this morning. He murmured, "Jackson Pollen.")



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