For months I have avoided picking up The Idiot again, despite being only about 150 pages from the end, because every time I did I was just not able to get through the wall of text that is the beginning of Part Four. When I read, sometimes I like not concentrating too much, and Dostoevsky […]
Trying to replicate Turner made me realize how difficult it really is to paint, and how much thought needs to go into planning and finishing any piece of art. Eventually I would get frustrated and be done for the day, but not before realizing that I actually DO have the ability to do all that contrast and shading… but on my flute instead of with paints. No difference between dark and light a boring painting makes; no difference between loud and soft a boring performance makes, right?