|parenthesis, oil on canvas, 8"x10"|
hello my russian friend,
how are you?
your malevich is an extraordinary individual, in my humble view, he is the painter of the 20th century. did i tell you i met him once at a craft show? he was buying a native american dream-catcher, was holding it up, examining the divisions of geometry that were created by the circling of the fine yarn, the dyed red thread. he looked perplexed, yet engaged, like an animal investigating it's own reflection in a mirror.
i then asked him if he knew what the dream catcher's purpose was and he replied that he didn't care, that he only loved the shape of the circle and how it was divided up, that it's meaning was meaningless to him. me, thinking i was so smart, replied: "but, the purpose of the dream catcher is quite lovely, poetic. it catches the harm in the air the same way that a spiders web functions with small insects..." i thought i was so astute, i thought i was an educator with merit. i wasn't. he just looked at me with those light blue lasers, so cold that they're hot, eyes of magnitorosk steel, and replied:
"i only understand the supremacy of pure feeling in creative art. to me the visual phenomena of the objective world are, in themselves, meaningless; the significant thing is feeling, as such, quite apart from the environment in which it is called forth."
major f. honk