Hi Friends,
I wanted to log in and get a couple of thoughts down about the D'Agata piece and PillowBook, but I also know that I'm about done for the night and will be more coherent tomorrow morning.
I loved both of these, though. I read the D'agata piece first, and even though I've read this before, I feel like I read it with new eyes tonight and have a better sense of it than when I first read it long ago. That being said, there's also a lot here-- I could read and write for days--I could research and read and write for days. I like the way Sarah presented this piece, too-- as a way of using found material and collage, or the lyric essay form in general, to look at and think about art. I really love some of D'agata's language in this piece, too. THe combination of Darger's words and D'agata's is really stunning. I find myself in awe of the work our author has done here: the depth of his observation, the time spent with the work, the rumors, the anecdotes, and the room. Such careful and compassionate treatment. The final moments, in the room with the lead pencil reflections, bring Darger fully to life-- we see that he created company for himself, that he was not alone, that he was not only an artist but a survivor. Of course, there's also some creepiness. There's a darkness here, too. One is asked to question, I think, the drawings and paintings, the little girls, yes? And then perhaps to question the questioning?
Pillowbook: I find this work beautiful. Musing, filled with gratitude, meditative. More on this one tomorrow--particularly in regard to form, and, as Sarah mentioned, tone--I want to think more clearly about these elements.
I wanted to log in and get a couple of thoughts down about the D'Agata piece and PillowBook, but I also know that I'm about done for the night and will be more coherent tomorrow morning.
I loved both of these, though. I read the D'agata piece first, and even though I've read this before, I feel like I read it with new eyes tonight and have a better sense of it than when I first read it long ago. That being said, there's also a lot here-- I could read and write for days--I could research and read and write for days. I like the way Sarah presented this piece, too-- as a way of using found material and collage, or the lyric essay form in general, to look at and think about art. I really love some of D'agata's language in this piece, too. THe combination of Darger's words and D'agata's is really stunning. I find myself in awe of the work our author has done here: the depth of his observation, the time spent with the work, the rumors, the anecdotes, and the room. Such careful and compassionate treatment. The final moments, in the room with the lead pencil reflections, bring Darger fully to life-- we see that he created company for himself, that he was not alone, that he was not only an artist but a survivor. Of course, there's also some creepiness. There's a darkness here, too. One is asked to question, I think, the drawings and paintings, the little girls, yes? And then perhaps to question the questioning?
Pillowbook: I find this work beautiful. Musing, filled with gratitude, meditative. More on this one tomorrow--particularly in regard to form, and, as Sarah mentioned, tone--I want to think more clearly about these elements.
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