art

There was a time when a painting of a cow used to enrage me like no other. The bright colors and cool distant mountains, the sloping curves and happy scene reached deep within me and brought forth some kind of churning, livid reaction. I hated that cow. Viscerally. That cow annoyed the fuck out of me. In

At the risk of sounding snotty, on this wonderfully dreary Saturday afternoon, I was catching up on my Paris Reviews, by polishing off Issue 203, and listening to NYC's classical music station WQXR's online contemporary station, Q2, and discovered Nico Muhly's I Drink The Air Before Me: Music Under Pressure 3. " I Drink the Air Before

As you can guess, Holy Week stresses me out to the point that for a time afterward I feel like I have some unceasing tuning fork in my hands. Today is no different. And it seems that it would be best to stop talking about the difficulty to fathom everything and to just look at