Browsing: Letters

Letters
9 The blind spot

At a recent soirée of old friends and colleagues there was a politician whose acquaintance I had made back in high school. He was a jerk then and, as far as I can see, he’s a jerk now. I found myself pleasantly moving around the room and not making eye contact with him. As a matter of fact, through the whole party I was blind to his existence. To my last Scotch I successfully avoided the renewal of our acquaintance.

Letters
37 Is it art?

Dear Artist, In response to a recent comment questioning the validity of an artwork illustrated in these letters, I read one of self-appointed guru David R. Hawkins’ multiple handbook installments for qualifying spirituality, Power Vs. Force: The Hidden Determinants of…

Letters
22 Build the factory

Dear Artist, During the last while I’ve been giving my two bits worth to several would-be painters. These folks are young, well educated and talented. They want to talk about the business of making art, the possibility of going to…

Letters
39 Metamorphosis

Dear Artist, When fraternal twins Joyce and Judith Scott were born in 1943, they were two peas in pod — soulmate sisters, inseparable and aligned in every way except for the defining feature of Judith having been born with Down…

Letters
8 The joy mode

Dear Artist, Being happy with your life is one thing — being happy with your work is another. Between snow-capped peaks, by satellite hook-up, some email responses to the previous letter ‘Happiness’ made me pay attention. One thing leads to…

Letters
46 The ultimate creative act

Dear Artist, Yesterday afternoon, a group of old friends carefully gathered to celebrate my Mum, Carol’s life. We were perched upon a hill in a light-filled space, while late summer’s Scotch-mist dabbled at the landscape outside. Among those who spoke…

Letters
4 Clouds

Dear Artist, These days, the wind blows on this island from the northwest, fluttering hard the worldwide flags of the beach-cottagers. Clouds form over the distant coastal ranges, building among the highest peaks. Then they move out into the great…

Letters
43 Existential gratitude

Dear Artist, After all these years, within the striving and plodding of art and amongst the drop-kicks of New York and the patient song of our resident California Western Mockingbird, I’ve come to understand that happiness and gratitude are so…

Letters
27 Important stuff

Dear Artist, It’s early Tuesday morning and the studio computer is ringing like a Wal-Mart cash register. Artists are sending “Eyeku” to one another and copying to us. I’m thinking of young Basho, the first Haiku writer, cross-legged on his…

Letters
43 Studio needs

Dear Artist, Behind my Mum’s house, there’s a walking path that follows a river estuary that empties into the Pacific Ocean. Because we are but four kilometres upstream from the house in which we grew up, when we follow this…

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