Items from the Kitchen Compost Bin...
I'm at a loss at why I like Paul Klee and Wassily Kandinsky so much; it seems vaguely disconcerting. I used to like Monet. I used to like Renaissance art. Now I'm liking the moderns more and more, which feels vaguely perilous. It suggests I'm too much of my time and that my dreams of being a 19th-century type are just that. I wonder what the type of art you like says about you - especially when it evolves. Steve Riddle seems the most 19th-century among the St. Bloggers's. He rises early, drinks the dram of silence and contemplation, breathes old poetry and has a Southern chivalric manner.
I once started reading a short bio of Klee, hoping he wasn't some sort of terrible person. I like artists to be moral and sane. I was always put off from reading "The Confederacy of Dunces" when I learned the author committed suicide because it was as if his world view was tried and, sadly, failed. Similarly with atheistic authors. As if depression and a lack of faith were "catching". A prejuidice I must overcome.
Suitcase full of apologetic writings with titles like: “Against Sociobiology” and “Why a Bible Translation itself is an act of Church” and the sobering “Death of Christ in the Church – Why Ecumenicalism No Longer Matters”. Hie thee to prayer and the healing of Eucharistic Adoration.