renaissance woman, urban mutt and a swashbuckling rogue. my weapon is a canon and i capture moments. freelance photographer specializing in portraits, boutique weddings, boudoir, fine art and events.
Saturday, November 07, 2009
finding order...
this is Jackson Pollock's One.
i've friends who really like his work. i do not. i have tried, i assure you.
have you ever heard that people do not like in others what they do not like about themselves?
i think Pollock's work is chaotic and it hurts to stare at it. i've stood in front of his paintings to behold their wise wonder and gotten a headache.
i can sort of handle number 14. it's less frenetic and instead of searing pain it's more like a low mournful groan.
the odd thing is that the farther away that i am from his paintings, the more my shoulders tense up. i have to be mere feet away before i can comfortably attempt to find something about it i like and even begin to attempt to appreciate it. (that really miffs the museum people.)
why is that? i would think that distance from the chaos would be better.
i don't care for chaos.
i don't know anything about art, so i will not argue the merits of any artists work here. i simply find it odd that i have such a visceral reaction to Pollock's work.
one solitary word comes to mind when i view his work.
why?
don't tell me there is no, why... i get that. it doesn't stop me from asking the question. and, the answers that i've gotten make less sense than the work... furthering the chaos and the vicious circle.
this reminds me of infinity. i'll never know the exact ending point of infinity. by it's very nature that is a ridiculous question, yet i think about it. there must be a beginning and an end. ridiculous.
i can accept the chaos of Pollock's work and the fact that infinity doesn't end. but, there are things about myself that i cannot explain. accepting them is not nearly so easy.
i've always been about order. even in my brash and crazy moments, order, focus and routine are the baseline. i've always been the logical, rational one. but, i feel like i've moved into a Pollock painting.
words sometimes come out onto the page or out of my mouth and i get the same searing pain that i get when i look at One. i turn to the mirror and ask, why?
but, there is no answer and i go looking for an aspirin.
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2 comments:
I've always found chaos beautiful.
The universe is ruled by it.
Pollock's not for everybody.
Might I suggest Rothko?
Very soothing.
oh yes, i do like Rothko very much. :)
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