JOHN DIAMOND-NIGH

Evolving aria on art and life

On my lap sits a packet of carrot seeds. In lieu of a handy notebook the packet is covered with scribblings–painters' names, possible first lines, addresses, existential question marks. Tomorrow I'll plant the seeds.

 
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3 artists on #solitude

Interesting to see what journalists, confined from their usual beat, elect to write about. The nervy, streetish art critic #Holland...

#Slouching toward #Bethlehem

All week long I’ve been bumping into a grousy, brilliantine-haired, saturnine, avant-garde, old-fashioned man. By phone, an elderly...

Why is #happiness so hard?

Last night, as it rained, I stood outside, under a metal canopy, just to listen. Had already listened to #Arvo Pärt, to #Brian Eno, both...

#Fantasyland

Roosting on a hardwood pew, fidgeting with a stick of Juicy Fruit gum before my sister could catch me out, the crucifixion was of less...

We are #stardust, we are #golden

#Téju Cole says that “#spring, even in America, is #Japanese.” Is there any blossoming tree anywhere on earth that is not, thanks to...

#Asheville after

What will the #reset button be, who will press it, and to what ideology will that button be wired? Will we clamber back as fast as we can...

#Vienna waits for you

Yesterday, quite coincidentally, I heard two pop songs about Vienna. The first was by an obscure musician who lived next door to Lynne...

#Downshift

The world has #slowed. How many friends have observed that, subtracting the perils of the #virus itself, the whirlpool skirts of...

The #consolations of #art

Many devout N Carolingians I bump into think the #president talks too much but otherwise is an honorable man. Ethical, pure, muscular,...

In praise of shadows

Near the top of every list of all-time best design books is a slim volume by a Japanese novelist called In Praise of Shadows. I had tried...

min (one syllable will do)

Nothing, says novelist Julian Barnes, dates faster than excess. He is writing about the Paris painter Gustav Moreau, a fantasist and...

Radiant #women, #spaces to match

At the end of a solo day in #Paris, I’ve turned my feet into whining adversaries, eaten too much chocolate, seen some fine galleries,...

#Streets of #incense, streets of #stone

An old street in a #European city can feel a lot like the nave of a church. Breezy diagonal lines of wash hang high overhead like rib...

Black globes and Disney fairies

Global or local? Native or universal? Funny, but the topic came up several times this week, once in a chat about art (that usual café...

The thorny embrace: art and religion

Makoto Fujimoro is a painter of startlingly beautiful abstract paintings. As far as I can tell, he’s not just an inventive painter but a...

The great shark/missile splashdown

My 3-D class is making #boats, or rather some original water-borne invention that will float them across the pond on campus. Yoshi and...

On #rudeness

Whenever we move, I pack a small set of six or seven words with the care I’d devote to ancestral Meissen porcelain. To friends who visit,...

The #Gaiety of Vincent #Van Gogh

On a clear winter morning, like some cinematic delirium, aurora borealis ganged and flaunted ahead of us in the starry darkness. By...

#Madison County (2)

Grapevine Road winds skyward, twisting back on itself like a fistful of crumpled wire. At the crest, a row of broken tombstones juts from...

6 1/2 weeks in #Florence

Always April. Sometimes by train. Snaking into Florence by the grim, industrial conduit that drew us from the outlands to the exquisitely...

 
 
 
 

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