It's been another full year, and time again for another update post. In general, I try to keep this channel somewhat removed from my identity and life as much as possible, these posts excluded. While that may be true, I still am a person behind all these posts, and everything that happens in this channel is a reflection of my life, passed through the filter of language and image.
As some of you may have noticed, there's been a somewhat-significant decrease in the rate of my posts in recent months. While I wouldn't go so far as to call that intentional, it is reflective of my current life and priorities, and the way they intersect with my online presence. I've made increasing efforts to center my life around my own values, one of the most important of which is "slow living." It's important to me to take life one step at a time, appreciate quiet moments, and to be intentional in my interactions with the world. Part of this, of course, is spending less time on various electronics, and a step back from virtually all social media I have.
As such, in this channel has been a bit de-prioritized for me. While I don't intend to retire it or anything (at least not yet), my posts will likely continue to come out at the slow rate they have been for the foreseeable future. Life's full of many excellent things, but hopping from one thing to another only causes you to miss out on what makes each one great. When I find something that moves me, I'll continue to share it with you, and I hope you give these things the attention they're owed. Art is worth much more than an idle glance. Attention is an essential part of taking care of what you find.
As some of you may have noticed, there's been a somewhat-significant decrease in the rate of my posts in recent months. While I wouldn't go so far as to call that intentional, it is reflective of my current life and priorities, and the way they intersect with my online presence. I've made increasing efforts to center my life around my own values, one of the most important of which is "slow living." It's important to me to take life one step at a time, appreciate quiet moments, and to be intentional in my interactions with the world. Part of this, of course, is spending less time on various electronics, and a step back from virtually all social media I have.
As such, in this channel has been a bit de-prioritized for me. While I don't intend to retire it or anything (at least not yet), my posts will likely continue to come out at the slow rate they have been for the foreseeable future. Life's full of many excellent things, but hopping from one thing to another only causes you to miss out on what makes each one great. When I find something that moves me, I'll continue to share it with you, and I hope you give these things the attention they're owed. Art is worth much more than an idle glance. Attention is an essential part of taking care of what you find.
Prints by Ugandan artist Estelle Betty Manyolo Sangowawa, otherwise known as Betty Manyolo.
A Question about Art
By DERRICK AUSTIN (as published in Wildness)
Rome from the Pincio
Camille Corot
1826–1827
Oil on canvas
At a potluck, early on when everything but the wine glasses were clean, unpicked cheese sweating on plastic plates, small talk agitating the air, someone cornered me with: “If you could own any painting, what would it be?” They meant a famous painting or a painting by someone famous—to keep the conversation moving. To hang in my bedroom or beside my writing desk. This is why I don’t have tattoos. Imagine having to look at an image forever, I could have said. Instead I launched: “I saw once, in Dublin, during a year my spirit felt arid and pinched from grief, a perfect picture by Corot. It inspired in me what people used to call covetousness, and not because it was priceless or important. There are certain small pictures that you can feel yourself turning into a squint to look at—leaning tensely forward—but this one invites you to step naturally to it, so warm yet elusive is its light. Has it just finished raining—in summer or fall? Morning or dusk? Is the mood obscure, sad, serious, pious, wistful, plaintive, magnificent, or joyful? Saint Peter’s isn’t actually visible from there, nor the green slopes and earth-tone city. The stone pine on the right has a knobby trunk and shadowy canopy and thick, wavy branches. Its companion catches the wind in whooshing leaves. A priest listens to four streams pour from a wide basin. The hill looks like a place to meet an old friend or long for one.”
By DERRICK AUSTIN (as published in Wildness)
Rome from the Pincio
Camille Corot
1826–1827
Oil on canvas
At a potluck, early on when everything but the wine glasses were clean, unpicked cheese sweating on plastic plates, small talk agitating the air, someone cornered me with: “If you could own any painting, what would it be?” They meant a famous painting or a painting by someone famous—to keep the conversation moving. To hang in my bedroom or beside my writing desk. This is why I don’t have tattoos. Imagine having to look at an image forever, I could have said. Instead I launched: “I saw once, in Dublin, during a year my spirit felt arid and pinched from grief, a perfect picture by Corot. It inspired in me what people used to call covetousness, and not because it was priceless or important. There are certain small pictures that you can feel yourself turning into a squint to look at—leaning tensely forward—but this one invites you to step naturally to it, so warm yet elusive is its light. Has it just finished raining—in summer or fall? Morning or dusk? Is the mood obscure, sad, serious, pious, wistful, plaintive, magnificent, or joyful? Saint Peter’s isn’t actually visible from there, nor the green slopes and earth-tone city. The stone pine on the right has a knobby trunk and shadowy canopy and thick, wavy branches. Its companion catches the wind in whooshing leaves. A priest listens to four streams pour from a wide basin. The hill looks like a place to meet an old friend or long for one.”