Category Archives: Dreaming on Paper

I hadn’t painted in months. This is what happens: I swear that I won’t paint again, that I’ve had it with brushes and paints, with color stains on my pants, my shirts, my carpet, my skin. I will give myself … Continue reading →

For as long as I can remember I’ve been drawn to Morandi’s paintings of bottles and vases arranged with “fearful symmetry.” Maybe because the artist was Italian, like my parents, and named Giorgio, like my cousin in Genoa—or because his … Continue reading →