So pleased I met Bill Cunningham, however briefly. He was real, the world real, what he did real and not remotely removed. Fashion, architecture, the arts can seem so that way so in our ever troubled world. Then a genius like John Galliano gets deep in shit when he’s overworked, over pilled, drunk. Those substances do not reveal human truth. Fallacy. Those substances certainly can create ugliness yet no insight into one’s human soul. The insight now is more than ever that words are just words. They can be scarring and beautiful. And when they are the former of course should be called out. But context is always everything. And the context of a person paramount.
I still don’t believe composer Richard Wagner was anti-Semitic. History declares proof of this citing not one but the second pamphlet years later. Greedy, privileged, ignorant people angered him failing to understand and support his vision. He happened to hit on the Jews as many have down, alas over the centuries. His music, however, full to the brim believing in a better world, compassion, liberation, unity not division. If substances are supposed to unleash one’s true inner being then surely there’d be proof of this hatred in music. There is none. It’s impossible to write hateful music. At least that anyone wants to hear. Shostakovich was angry as’f***’! So much beauty even in despair. Great rap music is akin Shostakovich; whose ears ever want ever be pummeled with anger, spite, hatred?
Well, the Robins have fledged. Or died. Just a tiny fleck of blue eggshell fallen behind on the branch. The nest cleaner than an Airbnb! At the risk of sounding like all those ‘friends’ pummeling one with newborn baby photos: that’s great, obviously means more to you than us. No offense. We just had a miscarriage. We can’t even get now an abortion no angst.
Let’s focus instead on American Robin the ceramicist! As if the nest were on an avian potters wheel. The nest rim exquisitely mudded. Sealed. Skein of nylon thread initial inspiration. Why are most humans so useless unable to do even that!
While the final glimmer of light sped away, the Countess raised her palms to the air, as if releasing an invisible bird, then in a final access of courage put her hands in her husband’s, her smile as radiant as the vanished flower.
KITTY’s Saturday Night Movie and ANDREW’s Weird Wednesday Movie. Who knew ‘cat years’ could spell trouble.
