Saturday, May 23, 2015

about agnes martin .... i've painted on grids and will do so again, so i've always had a regard for agnes martin's asceticism without the foggiest idea of where she hoped to lead me ... i think walter de la mare tried to put his finger on my kind of spiritual blindness

this next paragraph from the end of olivia laing's article in today's guardian ...

"She wanted to be buried in the garden of the Harwood Museum in Taos, near a room of paintings she had donated, but New Mexico law forbade it, and so in the spring after her death, a group assembled at midnight and scaled the adobe walls with a ladder. It was a full moon, and they dug a hole under the roots of an apricot tree, placing her ashes in a Japanese bowl lined with gold leaf before scattering them in the earth. A beautiful scene, but as Martin knew, “beauty is unattached, it’s inspiration – it’s inspiration”."

All but blind
In his chambered hole,
Gropes for worms
The four-clawed mole.

All but blind
In the burning day,
The barn owl
Blunders on her way.

And blind as are
These three to me,
So blind to someone
I must be.