Perplexing image, right? I snapped it while wandering in flaneur-fantasyland (i.e. Kensington, London) the other day. It’s the crowning detail of a public statue, and it’s a bit disturbing, at least from this unusual perspective. And, lest clarification begs, the statue is not in any remote way connected to Edgar Degas. Until today. The words, however, are his.
“Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.” ~ Edgar Degas
A good reminder. And good encouragement to abandon verisimilitude as yardstick…
Art of Midlife
It occurs to me that middle aging sometimes pushes us into the predicament of projecting a self to others that isn’t necessarily the same self that we see. A facade. An air. We see ourselves absent facades and airs, but we cloak ourselves, sometimes literally, in order to appear younger, stronger, less vulnerable, etc. Is this the art of midlife?
Though it isn’t the midlife I’m trying to create as I explore and experiment (and reveal the highs, lows, art, and artifacts) of transitioning from young adulthood to more mature adulthood. I prefer to imagine the art of midlife involving acceptance and comfort in my skin. I prefer to imagine the art of midlife narrowing the gap between what I see and what others see. A more honest representation of self. Unselfconscious. Honest.