I'm hoping that the blustery winds today blow away the last of the cobwebs from the last couple weeks and let me get back in touch with the feeling I had when I spent the weekend away with Laurel. We wrote like madwomen and fed each others' need to fall into the page and emerge tattered but triumphant. This weekend my goal is to sharpen up my synopsis and make at least a first draft of a query letter so I can get things emailed off to the agents and work on newer things.
2 May--Henri J.F. Rousseau, View of the Bridge at Sevres and the Hills at Clamert, St. Cloud, and Bellevue. The critics and the art crowd hated Rousseau no matter what he put on his canvas. They thought his colors were too bold, his subjects too brash, and sever questioned his vision because of the lack of perspective. But no one could beat old Henri when it came to allegory. Every one of his paintings held biting social commentary deep in its precise trees and buildings and machines. The machines of the modern day hover above ancient hills and overshadow the homes of men too tradition-bound to embrace them. The rigid lines of technology press uncomfortably against the sinuous natural curves that hold them. Henri was making his judgement of those who embrace the new and the others who cling to the old, but in color and form and composition. In some ways, a more palatable truth.
This is a complete fabrication. Sounds good, though, doesn't it?
Weekend! Yay!
--Barbara
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