yesterday was a particular feat. chapter 2. perhaps my worst chapter. the word metaphysical shows up perhaps 85 times. It's not good. The problem had been that I was trying to use de Chirico's writings to demystify what he meant by metaphysical. But... his writing is so vacuous and unclear that I, in turn, became vacuous and unclear. So I was clear-cutting that section of my thesis and feeling intensely frustrated.
Luckily, dinner happened at the apex of frustration. And with dinner, brought lovely company and a mindspace outside the thesis. Then writing was smooth sailing.
But that's not the point (happy conclusion, the end, right?)... In my afternoon of frustration, slashing de Chirico's quotes that I had translated, I got up from my computer and paced a little (walking always helps me think). My thesis, see, is about de Chirico and the work he produced during WWI, especially those paintings which have a close referent to the city of Ferrara where he was. There is an increased prevelance of the city's Castle, its local bread (ciuppietta), its local cake (pampepato) and the Jewish-Ghetto-made cookies. I propose that the artist is at the height of his metaphysical painting style in Ferrara and also exemplifies the central philosophies of modernist painting, all done in an effort to seek solace from WWI.
So in my moment of frustration, what did I do? I got up and paced, and found the... cookies... the italian cookies... that my mother had brought the day previous, leftovers from the Venice-themed gallery opening of which she was a part.
Do you see it? Metaphysical painting, Jewish cookies... Stefan eating Italian cookies.... whoa, meta.
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