Wednesday, July 7, 2010


An artist friend once gave me one of his paintings. Done in hues of blue and green it depicted a dog inside a courtyard. The dog was barking at a man who has been caught in the act of climbing over the courtyard wall. The title of the painting was The Intruder. A few days after hanging the painting I noticed vague shapes and silhouettes beneath the paint. I remembered that my friend often painted over old canvases and I realized I was seeing the traces of an earlier painting. The longer I looked the more I saw. I saw how tenuously the new rests upon the old. I saw how the past is always intruding upon the present. I saw how every story is shaped, at least in part, by the stories that came before.


smartz said...

I love your post, especially because one of my favorite books is a collection of stories (true ones I think), entitled "Pentimiento."

So wonderful to see you on your blog again.

farmlady said...

What wonderful insight Tai. Everything builds on what came before and life always has an underlying history that effects what exists in the now.