17 February 2009

The lake, Maurice Sendak, Picasso.

So the other day I went down to the lake to sit and celebrate (the day, the lake, and sitting too.)
They have these concrete barriers out in the lake, about 800 ft out into the water, I don't know what they are called or why they are out there. They are ugly, and the effect they have is odd; all of the water from shore to barrier is frozen, at least on the surface. It's not moving, for some reason it's not reflective either, it's just wretchedly staid. 
Beyond the barriers, however, the water laps as usual, it gleams, it moves, etc. So the key to the view is going long, obviously.
For whatever reason, I found myself thinking about Maurice Sendak and Picasso. And how their early artwork (like, at age 14, in Picasso's case) was so painstakingly accurate, and how they must have cared a very great deal about drawing, and how their later works are so spontaneous and magical and fun. 
They were following a dedicated practise of learning to do something well, nay, perfectly, and then something magical happened. SOMETHING happened, and they lost their obsession with accuracy. And suddenly there was so much room. WHAT?!?! WHAT HAPPENED?!? And where do I get in line?

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