I read a biography of Edward Hopper about 20 years ago. It’s primarily based off of his wife, Jo Hopper’s journals. The book frames him as a jerk that treated her poorly, discouraged her career and refused to change to make their life more comfortable. I have no idea if this is true. I’ve seen some of Jo’s paintings. There wasn’t much to encourage. Edward and Jo left all of their work to the Whitney Museum. They chucked most of her stuff. Edward didn’t seem like a pleasant person, but he might have just been a hard-headed recluse.  He didn’t leave any written record of his side. What we get is Jo’s words. One side of an argument.  Jo seems exhausting. She writes a lot. A lot.

I think I’m turning into Jo. My texts are way too long. I’m usually sitting at a computer when I get them so it’s too easy to respond with a much too thorough answer. I assume that most of them don’t get read. When I lecture, I occasionally slip into some sort of manic speed of delivery. My students probably think I’m crazy. So, at least for this week, I’m trimming the fat and not going to write much.

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            I finished another still life, started another and worked a bit more some Surrealist-inspired stuff. That’s it unless you want a recap of me hauling brush to the street for pickup this week.

            Here’s a new Jay Som song. She’s playing the High Watt in November:

Currently reading:

The Book of John



St. Augustine: City of God

Leningrad - Anna Reid