Why does anyone ever do anything.. twice?
That is a flower. Not a vagina.
Nobody sees a flower, really, it is so small. We haven’t time – and to see takes time like to have a friend takes time.
If I could paint the flower exactly as I see it no one would see what I see because I would paint it small like the flower is small. So I said to myself – I’ll paint what I see – what the flower is to me but I’ll paint it big and they will be surprised into taking time to look at it – I will make even busy New Yorkers take time to see what I see of flowers.
…Well, I made you take time to look at what I saw and when you took time to really notice my flower you hung all your own associations with flowers on my flower and you write about my flower as if I think and see what you think and see of the flower – and I don’t. — Georgia O’Keeffe
Georgia O’Keeffe never painted vaginas. Her paintings just seemed to resemble luscious lady parts.
She painted all kinds of stuff. Everyday items, things that we pass everyday without so much as a glance. Her surroundings, mundane things. That is who she was.
Like this door. Again not a vagina.
That door was the patio door of O’Keeffe’s house in Abiquiu, New Mexico. These paintings (after her move to New Mexico in 1949) are considered far less inspiring than her earlier works. She painted the door a dozen times. But it wasn’t the same. The subject was same but it was different everytime. The light. The weather. The people. The mood. She saw it differently and that is how she painted it.
That is why you do things. Again. Repeat, Relive, Recapture.
Maybe you should just ride a bike only once? Go to that Chinese place by the corner once and forget about it. Have that first kiss and give up. Fall in love just once. Never re-read that book, that glorious reminder of your childhood.
Live just one day? Well, no. You do it because it is new every time.
Each time, a new experience. It could be the most ordinary thing. Like that door. But therein lies the magic of it. Sometimes you get stuck on something of interest and you pursue it. You open your mind and let the flow take you. Some people paint doors, some write, some read, some walk, some just live.
Like your flimsy paper boat gliding along a river until it comes to rest against a guiding rock.
O’Keeffe painted that door over and over again. That was not about perfection.
That was about making that feeling last.
[More of Georgia O’Keeffe’s work – here]