Everything old is new again
The itch to write tonight was strong, but the question as usual, was 'what do I have worth saying'. Then I thought about how I used to post paintings on my blog and how much I used to enjoy that. It was just fun, and it usually opened my eyes to seeing things in different ways. So tonight, I went to my old, reliable site for art, CGFA. I scrolled through classical paintings of scenes from mythology and the Bible, thinking that I was wasting my time. Then I found this little gem. It's called The Librarian, and when I saw it, my heart just felt lighter. I loved its whimsy and gentle mockery, and I thought it had to be early twentieth century, some surrealist contemporary of Magritte.
Was I ever surprised. The painting was done in 1566 by Giuseppe Arcimboldo. (That is just a wonderful name. You can almost taste it when you say it out loud. I want to describe it like one would a wine, round, full bodied but with notes of brightness.) This little gem was done nearly 460 years ago. It's so easy to think of people from that long ago in two dimensional terms. Even lover of history that I am, their lives seem as foreign to me as an undiscovered life form from a yet unknown planet. My mind shapes them in two dimensions -- flat pictures of people in odd clothing easily dismissed in this cynical, sarcastic, fast paced, information overloaded time.