“I like the story of Jackson Pollock. Jackson Pollock was looking at a book about… well, I guess, reproductions of Picassos and he says, “Damn him.” He like throws the book, and he says, “Damn him, he’s done it all.” Of course Picasso did do it all, except for what Jackson Pollock did. Jackson Pollock took the drip from the teeth of Guernica, the teeth of the horse from Guernica, there’s one horse that has just little drips of… it might be, you know Picasso isn’t one for drips, it might be… they’re the only drips that I’m really familiar with in Picasso’s work. It’s like Jackson took the drips from the mouth of the horse and then took that small aspect and created a new vocabulary, a new, very American work of art. The joy of moving through the process of discovery belongs to every new artist, or as T.S. Eliot said, ” Every generation translates for itself,” and it’s up to us to both embrace history and break it apart, blow it up even.”
Patti Smith, Dream of Life
About
Passing stranger!
You do not know how longingly I look upon you,
You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,)
I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you,
All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,
You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me,
I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only,
You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return,
I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone,
I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again,
I am to see to it that I do not lose you.
