Wednesday, March 5, 2014
always the deep of winter makes me go into a kind of inner retreat. nothing feels firm or fixed or even real, though the promise of spring becomes a lure that flashes brilliantly in the endless sea of winter. artist andy goldsworthy's work speaks of this isolation; there is a poignant & disquieting solitude in his structures. paul introduced me to him last year (winter?) via his film 'rivers and tides' and i was absolutely snared watching the artist carefully form and stack and bend and arrange ice and sticks and leaves and rocks; all which bloomed beneath his patience and focus. this kind of impermanent making reminds me of the temporary nature of both winter and the murky feelings that i often couple with during its long tenure.
"I go into solitude so as not to drink out of everybody's cistern. When I am among the many I live as the many do, and I do not think I really think. After a time it always seems as if they want to banish my self from myself and rob me of my soul." - Nietzsche
(winter please be over.)