Word: driftings
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...first days of vacation are all right of course, because no one expects me to do anything but collapse into bed, wake up for meals that put Adams House cooking to shame, and drift back to sleep again. But parental tolerance of the sleep-gorge-sleep regimen wanes quickly, and then, at least in my family, I am expected to fill the 'rents in on the details of life at school: intellectual pursuits stimulating lectures and an exhilerating, whirlwind, cosmopolitan social life. Unfortunately, words fail me here, because much of my life is spent hunched over a typewriter contracting curvature...
They were stunned. The braver of them said, "It is all right! It is all right. There is no reason to be so upset. You still have two steps underneath the snow drift." Will they ever understand what they have taken away from...
...this week, folks; a whole slew of shows debut. They range from murder mysteries to multi-media, proving once again what a diverse Center for the Arts Cambridge is, how stimulating a place it is to go to school in, and how appreciative we should be--you get the drift. Seriously, though, there is a nice assortment of drama and ballet this week; if none of the new shows appeal, you can always make do with last week's leftovers...
...longstanding friend, exegete and collector, Thomas Hess. "It was in such storms," writes Hess, presumably referring to the squidgy, roiled surface of the paintings, "that life first was created, and creativity -the miracle of genesis-is the ultimate concern in de Kooning's difficult, elusive, spontaneous art." The drift of Hess's passage seems to be that de Kooning, at 73, is much more than a tempest: he is either God or, at the very least, a primal cloud of cosmic gas. There have not been tropes like this since the old days at Art News...
...human body's motion, discerned with a painstaking and endlessly refreshing eye. Like a painter absorbed in something as slight as the fall of light on a glass jar, Cunningham is fascinated by the eloquent detail: a dancer's leg arcing upward like a searchlight against the sky, the drift of weight in space when the body leans slowly backwards, dancers bounding across the stage like stones skipped across water. The patterns aren't only visual, either: in one dance, "Torse," where there was very little sound accompaniment, Cunningham created a whole aural superstructure from the rhythmic thuds...