En Masse

Posted: January 29, 2015 in Uncategorized

When I was in grade school, we learned once, very briefly about Henri Matisse. I think there was a Matisse exhibit at the local art museum or something, and so a small unit was given about his work before a cleverly planned field trip. We didn’t talk about Picasso (a name some might have recognized in my class), we didn’t discuss Fauvism, we certainly didn’t view Bathers with a Turtle, The Dance, or La coiffure. But we did discuss him and I felt somehow a degree of admiration for a man whose work I certainly didn’t understand, who was dead 30 years before I lived, and who I retained little information about save his name and this detached feeling of admiration. So what if that is love, or taste, just a die roll of the heart? What if I try 6 plates of food within an hour, and the fifth one fills with me with satisfaction not for its ingredients, but because it was the fifth? And if the plates were swapped beforehand by an uneducated hand? Would I then be ordering the chicken fried steak instead of the eggs benedict?


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