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Breakfast

Fr. Bernard reading the paper

I read this piece on the guardian website this morning. I reproduce it here in full.

A charming example of Sir Anthony Caro preferring to let his work speak for itself was afforded toward the close of a somewhat long-wordy questionnaire by Peter Fuller in Art Monthly. When Fuller asked what his sculptures meant, Caro replied: “What does breakfast mean?”

I’m tempted to say breakfast means food. I like breakfast. I’m a breakfast person. Couldn’t go without it. Its one of the few things I don’t skip.

Okay, okay Sir Anthony please don’t look at me that way, despite being dead. I know what you’re saying. I’m trying to draw parallels with my own art making. This is a koan to be sure. Something to make one think, and just before you answer, think some more. Therefore, this is me thinking. I know it’s not a pretty site but it’s the best I can do at this hour of Monday morning.

For me breakfast is a necessity of life ergo art is a necessity of life.

That wasn’t so hard now was it? Nice and neatly packaged, no loose ends, just the way life should be and art in particular.

Now I can have my breakfast in peace and browse over these.

A heady combination or just a symptom of someone too easily pleased.

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