The HeART Of The Matter

So, I've just finished reading a really good book. Not good, great, titled "Lulu Meets God And Doubts Him". It's a book that I randomly purchased during a book buying frenzy at Half Price Books, probably because I liked the title and because it was on sale. I love that store and could easily drop $500 there and only be getting started, so advanced is my book buying/reading affliction.
I've had the book for well over 5 months and finally got around to reading it a couple of days ago. Contrary to the title, the book has very little to do with "God" but very much to do with the spiritual nature of artists and the fickle nature of the "artistic social scene" in New York. The book paints a very vivid picture of the "hot or not" labels pushed onto "emerging" (other wise known as "newb") artists and the mediums that they use to create the visual representations of their soul (or in some cases, whatever their gallery asks for). I'm going to quote the synopsis since a.) it's late b.) I'm still whacked out on muscle relaxers and finding it hard to focus c.) cause I wanna'.


"In this enjoyably tart art world sendup, winsome, aperçu-spouting Mia McMurray (think Party Girl–era Parker Posey) is a gallerista—one of the invariably decorative young women who act as a gallery's de facto concierge, and "who is always, always watching," as Mia herself puts it. A mysterious portrait by the recently late Jeffrey Finelli (killed by an errant cab in front of Mia's Simon Pryce gallery) gives the novel its winningly clumsy title and sets up its main conflict, between grasping art collectors and representatives of Finelli's estate. Former Mademoiselle and Woman's Day editor Ganek, herself a significant art collector, offers sharply drawn characters and convincingly savvy details. That the book's most important female collector is presented as a loudmouthed and overdressed refugee from Absolutely Fabulous gives a sense of its waspish humor. But Ganek stops short of crude caricature, and Ganek's portraits of the variously sneaky, ridiculous and pretentious art world denizens are tinged with affection and depth. The tone is sophisticated chick lit, and there's a sweet love story threaded in, but what most clearly animates this debut, and sets it apart, is a real sense that art matters."(June)
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The book really struck a chord with moi, as I've been expressing myself on canvas for as long as I can remember. I'm no Pablo Picasso, but I put my whole self into my work and like it enough to not burn it. There's one particular paragraph that so accurately described my art experience that I felt like maybe the author had somehow delved into my mind mush (via alien space craft perhaps?) and written down what she found there. Anyhow, here it is...
" There's something in my eyes when I look at them in the mirror, what is that? Not doubt. More like insecurity. I want to convey an expression of what it's like to be twenty eight, knowing your a grown-up but wondering what you're supposed to be when you grow up. I want to capture what it looks like when you start to realize you have to let go of your dreams. I want the pain of my own artistic yearning to appear there, on the canvas. As I paint, I lose myself in the joy of the work. Later, I'm overcome by an old familiar feeling of faint hope, that maybe I'm capturing something there on the canvas, some essence of what in my mind's eye... God is that you?"
If your into artsy fartsy things or if you looking for a good read while your on the crapper *cough, fellas* I would highly suggest giving "Lulu..." a shot.




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