Should social media be this confusing for someone of my generation? I expect not, but these different forms of communication never cease to overwhelm me. I understand that Twitter, Facebook, instagram, etc. are extremely effective tools for getting your voice out there. Unfortunately, for me they're the internet's version of chainsaws: I have no idea how to use them, and I'd probably lose a finger if I tried. There is a possibility that that comparison is a little overdramatized.
|Hawthorne, By the Window, 1912|
Anyway, after deciding to take my social media presence to the next level (a million emails from Klout later), I have made myself a tumblr, where I will re-post all my blog posts and re-blog all the cool art/fashion/
innerthoughtsofthebestcelebritychild that I come across. If I can do that. I don't actually know. It should be a less formal platform for me to get my thoughts and ideas out there, and then expand on them in a more thought-out way here. I am hoping to do so on a semi-regular basis, using a blog called Cave to Canvas, which focuses on a different artist every day and posts pictures of their work. When an artist strikes me, I'll choose one of their works and put up a short little post on here about why they caught my eye.
Today I was scanning through and found yesterday's featured artist, Charles Webster Hawthorne, a turn of the century American artist. The piece I chose, out of all of his lovely Sargent-y portraits of impeccably dressed women, is called By the Window. While this painting lacked the really bold colors of many of his others, what stood out to me was the gloomy air of the work. I saw this quality in most of the paintings that were posted, but the ability to retain it with a scene full of sunlight impressed me enough to be fascinated with this one in particular. Some of the only shadow in the composition stretches across her face, and she has none of the made-up finery of the other women in his paintings, rather a disheveled nightgown. This all works with the sunny lighting to create an atmosphere, not of despair or depression or anything so dramatic, but rather a sort of calming melancholy. This made the work serious without being overbearing, something easy to get lost in as I imagined this woman's story.