Thomas Fink
and his wife Molly Mason spent some time with me in Oberlin, Ohio
yesterday.
The three of
us started out in the Allen Art Museum.
Tom ( in addition to being a poet, critic, guitarist and budding bel
canto singer) is a painter. Molly is a
professional sculptor.
I loved
wandering from painting to painting—to sculpture—to ceremonial mask—to performance
document with these two. The
conversation was great, spiked with anecdote and passion. I love this couple.
I
particularly loved how Molly could look at a passage in a painting and break it
down materially—that beautiful gold in the drapery of that renaissance dress is
this and that color, but look how it has been transformed. The appreciation and honoring of detail!
Only one
discordant moment in the museum. We
spent a long time thinking out loud about an African fertility mask. Our hands were waving close to the extraordinary
object. We were speculating about how it
would be worn and about how it was made.
A security guard approached us, gently, and asked us what we were doing.
We
explained. Molly thanked him for not
beating us up!
Later Tom and I
separated off from Molly (with her consent) to lunch and talk about divers
things.
Our late
lunch was at an Asian fusion place. I had a great pho and Tom had an Asian
inspired salad.
Our
conversation was about writing, poetry friends, and guitar techniques. Tom has been playing guitar since 1968 and he
drew some fret board diagrams for me that I’m hoping penetrate this noggin and playing
fingers.
I always
feel better after an encounter with Thomas Fink. He’s a positive force in the universe I
inhabit. Bless his heart.
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