Maybe it has something to do with the complete lack of an object, no specific image that I can recognize, no hard-edged shape that I am responding to. When I stand in front of Rothko’s painting Untitled No. 11, I am struck by how the painting seems to offer itself primarily as a dark void, a clean slate, a
I’ve come back to this beautiful observation three times now, over several days. The depth and elegance of your writing here leave me in amazement. And full of gratitude.
I’ve come back to this beautiful observation three times now, over several days. The depth and elegance of your writing here leave me in amazement. And full of gratitude.