Whenever anyone asks Oliver and Emmett what happens at Nana’s house, they say, “We have art projects.” Oliver sort of snorts when he says it, as if to say, “Stupid, what do you think we do — dig holes?”
Today we all went down to the Arts Council to retrieve the Ann Head from the display cabinet. My art illicits the same response that my writing does — after time, I review it and think, “Hell, I made that? Where in the world did that inspiration come from? How did I do that?”
The Ann Head does that to me. It is sublime.