Tour De Force

I agreed to do a lecture for the benefit of Downingtown Library last Thursday. The topic - "Influential books for and by artists - from the 15th to the 21st century". It began with Cennino Cennini and ended with the book I'm presently writing, "The Golden Age of Oil Painting - 1400-1800". The PAINT, PAPER, CLAY, WAX, WOOD show opening is imminent (November 10), so I had no business going off the rails this late in the process. But it got worse.

In the last few days, I began experiencing a new kind of fatigue. Around 3 or 4 PM in the afternoons, I would completely shut off. I'd find myself sitting in a chair or standing in a corner, vacantly staring at nothing, thinking nothing, practically unable to move and not knowing how long I had been there. Re-booting perhaps? It occurred to me later that this kind of mental exhaustion comes from trying to change yourself. Marie Paxson said to me a couple of days ago, "When you're going somewhere you've never been before, you have to do things you've never done before."

Thursday afternoon came, and what I feared most happened: total intellectual collapse and the lecture only three hours away! Getting in bed I thought, "Rest a bit and hopefully figure out something to say." Surprisingly, I fell asleep and awoke with a start. The entire lecture, presented itself complete and I immediately went around purposefully collecting books, paintings, drawings and etchings. I spoke for one hour extemporaneously, entirely without notes, surrounded by books and art. When asked for questions, an enthusiastic woman announced to the audience, "Each one of us has to go out and tell twenty people about this show coming up!" On the way home Leah said, "Adrian, that was a tour-de-force."

What just happened? Did I dream a lecture? Was it inspiration? Fatigue? Strange things can happen when you're trying to change.

Adrian