WHY WE ARE NOT PAINTERS

“Why wasn’t he?” asks Mr. Walcott when I’m supposed to be interviewing him. “Too chatty, too bloody discursive, in the presence of oranges.” I can’t think of any lines to cite, nervous. Street details. “He was beautiful.” Two remotenesses colliding, the optimism of free 50s poets and painters in which one could fall to a [...]

Mar 28, 2011 | Comments Off

WHY I AM NOT A PAINTER (OR SCULPTOR)

Sep 17, 2010 | Comments Off