my dreams, my works, must wait till after hell

I hold my honey and I store my bread
In little jars and cabinets of my will.
I label clearly, and each latch and lid
I bid, Be firm till I return from hell.
I am very hungry. I am incomplete.
And none can tell when I may dine again.
No man can give me any word but Wait,
The puny light. I keep eyes pointed in;
Hoping that, when the devil days of my hurt
Drag out to their last dregs and I resume
On such legs as are left me, in such heart
As I can manage, remember to go home,
My taste will not have turned insensitive
To honey and bread old purity could love.

~ Gwendolyn Brooks

Highlights

We recently lost Kenneth Noland (beginning of this month). Great time to look back on the oeuvre of this contemporary artist. I think I explained earlier how I took a date -- or vice versa, to see a Miró show (my first contemporary art show) and I spent the entire evening being insulted by the artist's depiction of women. My date insisted I keep a sense of humour about the whole thing, but that was too much. Once I got home, I did what any respectable nerd would do avowed to research this artist. This led to research on other contemporary artists, and now I understand the mischievousness and tongue-in-cheekness, that are part of the sardonic humour these artists often use in their art. If you get a visceral reaction, it may be because they're offending your sensibilities.

I think that Noland was often misunderstood (and I speak as a neophyte only) and, at times, not given as much respect as other contemporary artists.

So what do you see? A broken circle? A broken wheel? Maybe that's what it is...