04 April, 2006


The fruits of a book can be unexpected. I just breezed through Kandinsky's 1912 On the Spiritual in Art; the psychology of colour articulated in Part Two has made me see things all newly. The Palo Verde blossoms this morning, yellow and expostulatory, are tempered by a misted sky, blue and receding; they have indeed acquired that green, sickly and quieted, caught in the throes of an obscene discomfiture, of which Kandinsky wrote. Still, I shall resist the urge to compose a poem about it.

No comments: