The woman posing is called by the name
Amy Greenspon. She buys and sells art work.
She says she doesn’t believe that fashion
is art. She describes her own fashion look
as dress down casual with an urban
sensibility. I tore out the page
because the photo’s a tough one to sketch.
Her head is tilted but only a bit.
“The only thing deader,” someone recently said to me,
“than a book is a painting. The only paintings today
that anybody sees are the paintings in the background
of a film set or a television show set picked out
by some production designer just to be a background.”
Possibly related to the context surrounding that
comment about books being dead and paintings being dead
recently I looked through some old blog posts about painting.
This drawing of Amy Greenspon kind of leaped out at me.
I’d forgotten I drew it and I’d forgotten I planned
to turn it into a painting to explore “reductions.”
I still have the pencil drawing but not the photograph
from which I’d copied the pose with the oddly tilted head.
Poor Amy! She was going to be a painted image
but now she’s just a picture of a drawing in a blog.
Bad time to be a writer. Bad time to be a painter.
Really fucking awful time to be a beautiful muse.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Lost World Of Stacy And The Llama
“The Librarian And The Painter”
Jeanne Hébuterne — Art As A Grail
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