EVERYTHING IS EVERYTHING

Robert Rauschenberg, The ¼ Mile (detail) 

“I remember rainbow-colored grease spots on the pavement after a rain.

I remember laundromats at night all lit up with nobody in them.

I remember Lois Lane. And Della Street.

I remember the sound of the ice cream man coming.

I remember movies in school about kids that drink and take drugs and then they have a car wreck and one girl gets killed.”

These are random quotes from Joe Brainard’s 167 page book “I Remember.” The entire book is written — one sentence after another — beginning with “I remember..” 

Last week, I took a writing workshop. The leader asked each of us to share our name and why we were there.  One woman said that she had worked for more than 20 years on her memoir.  She was determined to finish it. This class, she hoped, would give her a little shove to the finish line.

Wow!  The irony: life happened while she was trying to write her memories. The finish line? Isn’t that “death?” I didn’t have a copy of Brainard’s book with me at the time: I would have handed it to her.

Part of the installation at LA Mus. of Art

Robert Rauschenberg’s collage “The ¼ Mile” is installed at the Los Angeles Museum of Art through mid-June. It’s the first time this piece has been exhibited in its entirety. I’m checking out airlines and scheming: can I afford both the time and money to fly to LA? Do I have the stamina for such an adventure? (I’m not a particularly good traveler.)

The painting/collage is 190 panels with 3-D sculptures inserted along its length.  It represents 17 years of Rauschenberg’s life.  One critic described it as “ a self-contained retrospective.” 

Aha! A memoir!! 

(Rauschenberg said “There is no reason not to consider the world as one gigantic painting.”)

A few weeks back, I sent a message to a friend of mine. I wanted her to read my last blog posting. When I began the blog in 2008, I titled the site, “Rochester Art Review.” I’ve since wondered about changing the site name and wrote my friend “today’s blog has nothing whatever to do with Rochester or art!’

She wrote back “Everything is everything.”

If I could return to last Saturday morning, I maybe could help that one writer. Then again, maybe not. Process can be a form of meditation. Who’s to say if one method of reflection is superior to another? if one style of ‘memoir’ has more gravitas? for whom? 

There's "wallpaper" and then there's WALLPAPER! I added this "just because."