Even though the creepy factor is high, I really liked this article in the New York Times about innocent city voyeurism… I love that part of cities — sort of but not really knowing strangers, the bits of others’ lives that lightly graze your own. It’s lonely sometimes, but then so is living in a small town. Mostly it’s fascinating.
Today I cataloged a drawing by Gustaf Fjaestad called The Boy Who Sees with His Heart. A detail is on the cover of this book:
The actual work is irregularly shaped and set into a really pretty wooden frame. It was commissioned by the Swedish Association for the Blind, and I think it’s so lovely. I also cataloged an image from the 2007 Venice Biennale guide, which is titled “Think with the Senses, Feel with the Mind.” These two titles (of the book and of the painting) got me thinking about where we place our abstract feelings. Thoughts are in our heads, love is in our hearts. It’s much more romantic not to place everything in the head. I’m thinking that we miss out on a lot by doing that. I’m pretty guilty of paying too much attention to my head, and not enough to my gut or my nose or my eyes or my heart.