I’m reading Amy Sillman’s essay “On Color” in her book Faux Pas. Despite my issues with seeing color, the essay is drawing me in, largely in the way it opens a door to the tactile world of paint selection, something I was unaware of.
I have a strong desire to lead a more “artistic” life, although I’m not totally sure what that means. Before I started to write this, my initial thought was that it means a life very different from the one I have now. In the next moment, though, I identified my tendency toward all change being radical, and tried instead to push past that first reaction to instead see that art is close at hand.
I’m already a poet. I’m learning to sketch. I have fairly easy access to museums. I could make music. I could create the poetry album I’ve been meaning to work on. In short, I am already living an artistic life, and I have the means at my disposal to deepen that practice if I choose to. The readiness is all, as Hamlet said.
My copy (top) of Amy Sillman’s sketch (bottom) accompanying her essay “On Color.”
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