It is the last day of April And the grass is turning brown. When will the fires come And what will they burn down?
I chatted with the squirrels—ntskntsktsk. I sung with the birds—oh dear mi. I lay in the sun light And let the earth have her way with me.
Unlike Wassily Kandinsky’s Concerning the Spiritual in Art or Ben Shahn’s The Shape of Content, Mark Rothko’s own writing The Artist’s Reality wasn’t published during his lifetime. The book had remained merely a rumor among his friends and family until it was discovered by accident. Christopher Rothko has done a great service to the art […]