Lucian Freud, one of the foremost painters of the twentieth century, died a week ago. He was best known for his life-size portraits and larger than life-size paintings of naked people. Freud eschewed the formal term for these renderings of large, fleshy and lumpy models. He chose not to call them nudes, but naked paintings.
Archives for July 2011
He was there at the corner of Carmel and Clayton. A skinny guy wearing a fedora, with a Chihuahua-type dog on a leash at his side. They waited patiently in theLois Goodwill morning mist for the light to change as I observed the oddity of the leash. It appeared to be fashioned from yellow “police—do not cross” tape. There was more of that tape dangling from a bouquet of bluish-toned hydrangeas carried on the fellow’s arm.
This is closer to first steps than to First Lady, but I am off the diving board and possibly into deep water. If swimming is the metaphor for writing, then I suppose I will be okay on this aquatic adventure, since it is motivated by the need to publicize my just-released first book ever: Entangled, coauthored with Don Asher. With the book already published by Heyday, in the stores, and on Amazon.com, I guess I can write…but can I blog?
DESERT WORD WALK A literal and literary journey through California’s desert and some of its finest writers and writings
“Void of life, it never is, however dry the air and villainous the soil.” —Mary Austin, from The Land of Little Rain, 1903 It’s 4:00 p.m. on a July afternoon. It’s 117 degrees. I back my car out of the garage of my Palm Desert home, turn the air conditioner up as high as it […]