When I wake up in the morning, I'm amazed at what little I know, planning to learn at least one thing during the day.
I've written this many times, almost becoming my mantra.
Well, Saturday morning I woke up dumb as a bowling ball. After finishing my beauty work -- this magic doesn't happen on its own -- I sat down to read The New York Times online.
Perusing the light stuff, I came across an article on the retrospective on the painter Joan Mitchell.
Her paintings blew me away.
And I had never heard of her.
Actually, I had mis-read the headline as referring to the singer Joni Mitchell. She paints? I thought to myself.
I read the article with embarrassment at my lack of knowledge and no little amount of sexism. Most of the abstract expressionists I know and admire. I have a Mark Rothko print as well as my own crappy attempts at painting. (I made those mostly to fill wall space without spending money.)
Why do I read?
To fill that empty noggin of mine.
Peace and knowledge unto all of you my brothers and sisters.