Once there were two Philips who were friends. One was a very famous writer, a celebrity, the other a painter who had some degree of fame. Philip the Painter, who lived in the mountains and whose solitude was always being interrupted by the telephone, decided to put a stop to this thievery of time. He installed a switch that turns off the ringing telephone. This was a luxurious feeling for him, since he could telephone out to the outside world, but the outside world could not reach him at all. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Philip the Writer, who lived in the City (by preference, he once said, where he could roam the streets at will, eat in foreign restaurants, and taste all sorts of imported delicacies), had been trying to telephone Philip the Painter for six months. Then, after a trip to European cities, Philip the Writer tried again to telephone Philip the Painter. Again without success. Finally, Philip the Writer wrote this letter: \u2018For Christ\u2019s sake let your phone ring. The world isn\u2019t just shit heads and monsters wanting to disturb you at your sacred foolishness \u2013 there\u2019s also me, your old pen and brush pal. Call me.\u2019 <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Philip the Painter waited a week before he telephoned Philip the Writer, whose answering service said he was busy and that he would telephone Philip the Painter. But remember, Philip the Painter\u2019s telephone couldn\u2019t ring, and since he again went back to his \u2018sacred foolishness\u2019 in his studio, weeks went by. He received a second letter from Philip the Writer. This time in capital letters. \u2018HOW CAN I CALL YOU BACK IF YOU DON\u2019T ANSWER THE TELEPHONE? HUMANLY IMPOSSIBLE. TECHNOLOGICALLY IMPOSSIBLE. HOPELESS SITUATION, NO?\u2019 Then, as if they were secret agents, a designated time was chosen (through a third party, a neighbor) for Philip the Painter to telephone Philip the Writer. Philip the Writer couldn\u2019t believe his ears when Philip the Painter called. Philip the Writer pretended he wasn\u2019t home when he answered the phone call. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The dilemma was overcome when Philip the Writer agreed to visit Philip the Painter a week later for dinner and some talk. With the stern admonition, however, that since Philip the Writer couldn\u2019t telephone Philip the Painter, the appointment had to be firm and definite. This appointment made Philip the Painter more nervous than usual. He never knew from minute to minute how he felt. He couldn\u2019t control his moods, which changed like the shape of clouds. The commitment to a definite time of meeting might mean that he would have to telephone Philip the Writer again in order to change the time of the meeting to a\u202ffuture time. Naturally, this made him even more nervous. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This story ends happily, however. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Through a new source of willpower, Philip the Painter overcame his nervousness and was calm as he prepared to entertain his friend, Philip the Writer. This determination was accomplished by the feeling of security that they would spend their evening, during and after dinner, leisurely discussing their mutual nervousness about the time stolen from their work by the world outside. He knew they would exchange their fears of the ringing telephone. Philip the Painter knew that he and Philip the Writer would speak of their miseries and would plan strategies to prevent the frightening theft of time.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n
titel: the appointment (a true story) Once there were two Philips who were friends. One was a very famous writer, a celebrity, the other a painter who had some degree of fame. Philip the Painter, who lived in the mountains and whose solitude was always being interrupted by the telephone, decided to put a stop to this thievery of time. HeRead more »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2007,4694,974],"tags":[4827,3817],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imhd.nl\/log\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/68265"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imhd.nl\/log\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imhd.nl\/log\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imhd.nl\/log\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imhd.nl\/log\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=68265"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.imhd.nl\/log\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/68265\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":68268,"href":"https:\/\/www.imhd.nl\/log\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/68265\/revisions\/68268"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.imhd.nl\/log\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=68265"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imhd.nl\/log\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=68265"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.imhd.nl\/log\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=68265"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
stem: philip guston
perspectief: studio notes, 1970-1978 \u2013 In a drawer I find scraps of paper with these notes. Thickness of things. Shoes. Rusted iron. Mended rags. Seams. Dried bloodstains. Pink paint. Bricks. Bent nails and pieces of wood. Brick walls. Cigarette butts. Smoking. Empty booze bottles. How would bricks look flying in the air \u2013 fixed in their gravity \u2013 falling? A brick fight. Pictures hanging on nails in walls. The hands of clocks. Green window shades. Two- or three-story brick buildings. Endless black windows. Empty streets.<\/em>
bron: i paint what i want to see (2022), penguin modern classics
mopw:\u00a0meerstemmige encyclopedie<\/a><\/sub><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"