Black Square

I really have no idea why I’ve always had Kandinsky and Malevich in my head as some kind of diametric opposition; or why I’ve worn my Kandinsky on my sleeve; or what I feared from my Malevich; means and ends, meaning’s end, paths to the abstract? The first image is Kazimir Malevich’s Black Square, 1913. Oil on canvas, 41 3/4 x 41 7/8 inches. The second is Kazimir Malevich, Plane in Rotation, called Black Circle, 1915. Oil on canvas, 31 1/2 x 31 1/2 inches.

Knowing and love

+++ Je ne sais plus rien et j’aime uniquement [I know nothing anymore I only love] -Apollinaire+++ Appearances… We fathom you not—we love you. – Walt Whitman +++

Jorie (from interviews and prose)

“Somewhere between the “I” that takes its authority from an apparent act of confessional “sincerity,” and the “I” that takes its authority from seeing through to its own socially constructed nature, there is still the “I” that falls in love, falls out of love, gives birth, loses loved ones, inhales when passing by a fragrant rosebush–the “I” that has no choice but mortality. That “I” (Eliot would say personal yet collective) is emerging from the great philosophical fray of the last decade with a new respect for the mystery of personhood, and a more sophisticated understanding of its simultaneously illusory…