Lately I have not been seen at the parties and little dinners that are the fabric of New York's social season. Plays at the theater have opened and closed and delighted or disappointed the audiences, but I have not been of the number. I have even given up my daily lunches at Pastis, by far the most dramatic move I've made. I don't miss it. I felt I was beginning to be a little overexposed and decided to retreat and well, re-assess.
This city is amazingly diverse. For a change of scene one need only cross the park, or venture a bit further east. I've discovered the haunts of artists (I thought they'd all been forced out by exhorbitant rents). They welcomed me and inspired me. It is because of them that I found myself in an art supply shop recently and under the kind direction of one of the salesmen there ordered all that I would need to become a dedicated painter. Apparently, one needs a great deal of things.
I chose to work in oil because I wanted above all the lengthy process. It was time I wanted, time to reflect and evaluate and make changes if necessary. I thought of the canvas as my life and in every brushstroke there would be heavy contemplation. This is proving to be a worthy experiment, and so far I'm quite pleased with the results.
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26/10/05 @ 00:43