April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
T.S. Elliot The Waste Land
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| T.S. Elliot |
It would be convenient if tough days were confined soley to an already difficult month. I am would be willing to sacrifice February for this very purpose - to reserve for malaise and malady. But what actually happens is you get a disaster here, a loss there and the next thing you know the whole damn year is flecked with existential crisis and bleak anniversaries. Even April gets blemished, but of course, T.S. Elliot already told us that in the first lines of his modernist masterpiece, The Waste Land.
I had been thinking about the poet is relation to other people suffering as I left the house to view the galleries. Luckily at the end of the day I left these galleries still believing that making art matters. (Litmus test #1: check.) I also thought that maybe all art can be extracted from a few lines in T.S. Elliot.
So of course, the first show I walk into is….
