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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#Love (is Z)

#"Habitation" by Margaret Atwood Marriage is not a house or even a tent it is before that, and colder: the edge of the forest, the edge...

In praise of #books

A book–rare, hard-covered, tip-top shape by an author you love. And signed. Slim, infinitely delicious, and yes, of course, expensive. Or...

(Travel is X) Work is Y

Lynne talks often about the miracle of her junior high and high school on Long Island. Better by far than university would ever be. She...

Flamingos in the museum

Museums are funny places. You take something as inherently unruly, juicy and impious as a work of art should be, and place it in a home...

Travel is X

A friend asked me recently, for purposes of a piece he was writing, to list three life principles that have worked especially well for...

Heavenly hell

I thought I’d be sent to my bedroom for heresy. Perhaps I was kicking back against some parental remonstrance–I hadn’t mown the lawn, or...

Good morning, #sea

Beyond the cotton fields and pine forests, and after that the turtle-spotted swamps, you enter a vast pane of charred, chopping waters,...

Cracked

Waiting for Firestone to open, I spend a couple of minutes ferreting out those old receipts and Tutankhamun pistachio shells that find...

Sunflower stop signs

Snowfall, denser and denser, dove-coloured as yesterday, snowfall, as if even now you were sleeping. –Paul Celan Raised in Canada, I wait...

The cello and the dumpster

Nor has life in it aught better Than this hour of clear coolness, the hour of waking together. #Ezra Pound At a point in time when the...

Three peonies and a funeral

I’ll get to art; but first some words on sorrow–its butterfly arabesques. My mother’s recent funeral was all one could hope for in terms...

#Magic good, magic bad, magic #diabolical

What happens to the #jesters when the #king himself is ten times more obscene? What happens to the #subversive role of the #artist when...

The united state of #unfinished

Years ago I was an artist-in-residence at Alfred University. It was a fabulous gig. One day the dean asked if I’d give a lecture to the...

How can you write about #mustard?

Good question. If you’re a painter–#Chardin, or Giorgio #Morandi or my neighbor who paints cold, elysian ceramic bowls–you would paint a...

Slip-sliding in Florence

My intent is to keep this column somewhere within the misty township of aesthetics. Today I was going to talk about #nostalgia, murky,...

#Language paints a #mountain

#THE ABUSE OF POWER COMES AS NO SURPRISE: it’s a huge, scrolling LED sign by artist #Jenny Holzer that combines in its feminist critique...

#Madison County: O what a day!

Several years ago, Lynne and I decided to move to a whole new country–beautiful, exotic, and different than anything we had known before....

 
 
 
 

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