Caspar David Friedrich might be my art history soul mate. On a surface level, I think his paintings are perfection to look at. Their austere, northern landscapes speak to me. The gnarled, bare trees suggest weathering and time and realistically imperfect stories. Friedrich captures the fleeting, eerie quality of transitional light. The sky can only … Continue reading Decay or Rebirth?
I was reminded of Edvard Munch today, and something seemed to click into place. Munch's most famous painting, The Scream, is one of those art history icons that has become so familiar that its original intensity has faded. I don't think I fully appreciated The Scream until last Friday's Inauguration. I am feeling a serious … Continue reading I am Edvard Munch’s The Scream
I am an apology addict. I know that it’s a trope-turned-cliche that women apologize too much, but I’m sorry to say that my propensity for unprompted and effusive contrition puts even your average upspeaking millennial office worker to shame.
Am I calling you on the phone? I’m SORRY to bother you. Am I approaching the customer-service desk where you work specifically to answer questions like the one I need to ask? I’m still SO SORRY to be SUCH A PAIN. Did I — horror of horrors — take longer than fifteen seconds to load my groceries into my stroller? OH MY GOODNESS, I AM SO, SO, SO, SO SORRY. Did my child make any noise whatsoever in public? PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE LET ME TELL YOU HOW SORRY I AM. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.
It comes from being terrified of conflict, and in possession of a much…
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