Sunday, July 27, 2014

NAKED JULY: "Woman Washing Her Hair" by Goyo

Her feet and legs cast no shadow on the floor where she kneels to rinse her hair. Hair that pours down from her clutched hand, into a small bowl. These are the moments we never think about, though they happen over and over again as part of daily routine. Is she milky white or translucent? Warm and solid like a cat sleeping beside its owner, or a phantom, fading like mist in sunrise? 

Incidentally, the very first post I made to this blog was in response to another of Goyo's bathing women. 

1 comment:

  1. As a young teen, fascinated and frustrated by my own inner limitations and befuddled and incredulous about rendering the female form, a handful of minimalists seemed to hold both the keys of unlocking the mystery of gender and yet they also caused many pages to be crushed into the trash as the mind and hand had yet to understand how to untangle the riddle. I can only imagine a young Nagel looking upon Goyo's work and feeling such incredulity and in translating his own frustrations, lost the simple act of allowing the daily ritual to conquer the fantasy that cloaked the female form