We were talking this evening about obsessions. Like, with the JFK assassination, or with Amelia Earhart's disappearance, or Jonbenet Ramsey's murder, for crying out loud. I find those sorts of obsessions a little, well, crazy. They don't seem like reasonable things to devote one's life to.
But then there are obsessive artists like (off the top of my head) Vija Celmins, Motoi Yamamoto, or Andy Goldsworthy. Or, well, face it: pretty much any artist has to be at least a little obsessed. That is a good sort of obsession. Creative obsession.
It reminds me of a dog happily trotting along with a really big stick, which someone I know once called "good testosterone." It's like that.
part 1 and part 2—better to rent the DVD from Netflix).
As always click on the images to see them large on black. Enjoy!