It’s September 11th. How long will we remember where we were on this date? A lifetime for most of us I suppose.
I spent the day reading about war today. Yesterday on the bus, I realized how little I really know and I wanted to justify my own position, as I was having trouble shaking the conversation from my head. I went to Wikipedia and read the full entries on both World Wars. Obviously, this doesn’t make me a historian, but it gave me a good understanding. I found out that Hilter killed himself on my birthday. It pleased me. Does that make me a bad person?
I am here for the art, so I shall move on. I only have one week left and I know it will fly by. In addition, I really want to try to make it to Pietrapertosa, a small village 6 hours south of here where my ancestors are from. I know the drive, accommodations, and food will cost money that I perhaps should not spend. And really, I came here to paint, and leaving school a few days early might not be a good idea. But I’m so close – comparatively. I can’t seem to settle my mind. We shall see…
So – meet Lucian Freud. He’s an amazing figurative painter, though his subject matter often suggests his relationship to Sigmond. He uses huge amounts of color in his flesh tones. As an exercise, my instructor suggested I try to copy his self-portrait. Tomorrow I am supposed to use the same palette on my own face. Fun.
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