July 8 I throw my trash away in the public bins on the wide, empty piazza and walk to the church. A woman has already paid for the light. I join her, look maybe thirty seconds. The light goes out. I pay to bring it back. I begin today by focusing on Saul/Paul’s assistant in CONVERSION. An old man, furrowed brow, thinning hair. He stands in the same light Saul/Paul does, but is looking down, as is the horse. He doesn’t quite hold my attention, to be honest. He’s necessary to the picture as a witness. It wouldn’t work if he weren’t there. But my eye is drawn down to the confusion of limbs, like saplings in a forest, growing and shading one another out. I count twelve — the horse’s four legs, the servant and Saul/Paul’s four limbs, though Saul/Paul’s right leg is impossibly lopped off at the knee. It need not be. It’s as if Caravaggio wanted to show him without a literal leg to stand on.
The Cerasi Chapel (July 8)
The Cerasi Chapel (July 8)
The Cerasi Chapel (July 8)
July 8 I throw my trash away in the public bins on the wide, empty piazza and walk to the church. A woman has already paid for the light. I join her, look maybe thirty seconds. The light goes out. I pay to bring it back. I begin today by focusing on Saul/Paul’s assistant in CONVERSION. An old man, furrowed brow, thinning hair. He stands in the same light Saul/Paul does, but is looking down, as is the horse. He doesn’t quite hold my attention, to be honest. He’s necessary to the picture as a witness. It wouldn’t work if he weren’t there. But my eye is drawn down to the confusion of limbs, like saplings in a forest, growing and shading one another out. I count twelve — the horse’s four legs, the servant and Saul/Paul’s four limbs, though Saul/Paul’s right leg is impossibly lopped off at the knee. It need not be. It’s as if Caravaggio wanted to show him without a literal leg to stand on.