Коллекционер
Chapter 2
Hesaid,it’sratherlikeyourvoice.Youputupwithyourvoiceandspeakwithitbecauseyouhaven’tanychoice.Butit’swhatyousaythatcounts.It’swhatdistinguishesallgreatartfromtheotherkind.Thetechnicallyaccomplishedbuggersaretwoapennyinanyperiod.Especiallyinthisgreatageofuniversaleducation.Hewassittingonhisdivan,talkingatmyback.Ihadtostareoutofthewindow.IthoughtIwasgoingtocry.
Hesaid,criticsspielawayaboutsuperbtechnicalaccomplishment.Absolutelymeaningless,thatsortofjargon.Art’scruel.Youcangetawaywithmurderwithwords.Butapictureislikeawindowstraightthroughtoyourinmostheart.Andallyou’vedonehereisbuildalotoflittlewindowsontoaheartfullofotherfashionableartists’paintings.HecameandstoodbesidemeandpickedoutoneofthenewabstractsI’ddoneathome.You’resayingsomethinghereaboutNicholsonorPasmore.Notaboutyourself.You’reusingacamera.Justastrompe-l’oeilismischannelledphotography,soispaintinginsomeoneelse’sstyle.You’rephotographinghere.That’sall.
I’llneverlearn,Isaid.
It’stounlearn,hesaid.You’venearlyfinishedthelearning.Therestisluck.No,alittlemorethanluck.Courage.Patience.
Wetalkedforhours.HetalkedandIlistened.
Itwaslikewindandsunlight.Itblewallthecobwebsaway.Shoneoneverything.NowIwritedownwhathesaid,itseemssoobvious.Butit’ssomethinginthewayhesaysthings.
