I have a new fixation – ballet dancers. I suppose it’s more of a resurgent fixation. This is something that hits a lot of artists at some point, like Russian poets’ obsession with the sea. The body that needs to be chiseled into perfection like a block of marble, it’s so resistant to change and unyielding, like a thick fibrous canvas – cliche of me to make that comparison, but that’s really it, the recognition of the dancer’s constant siege of their body, like the artist’s struggle with his materials, to materialize the idea. Some might find this to be a negative outlook on the creative process, but I think it’s mostly the truth. The years and constant sacrifice to look like that, move like that. It’s obsession and insanity, but thank god for these people.
lopatkina and kozlov in "trois gnossiennes"
a few recent pages from my sketchbook:
