| writings: the diaries of otto dix |
| In the studio. I am waiting for Koch. The painting is finished. Do I like? I like. There are the usual nagging discrepencies of this or that sort I would prefer to correct. But this is painting. Its endless. Daubler the poet has said a poem is never finished--it is abandoned. It is the same with painting. At some point you have to say--enough! Koch arrives. I like but does he like? The odds are against. He insists I will be paid regardless. I have heard this before. But he likes. He is beaming. An unpredictable man! He says: youre a genuis! I agree. Last nite. I attended a party at Hans Kochs. We were gathered to ooh and aah over the painting. A lively affair. I enjoyed myself. It was a mixed crowd with a sprinkling of cultural and professional hotshots. I made a few contacts. I am making progress. I deserve it. I have talent and I work like a dog. Also present was Marthas sister. She is a younger version of Martha. I dont get it. What is the point of exchanging one woman for another? It all comes to the same in the end. But the champagne was flowing. I was in excellent spirits. I danced up a storm. I danced with Martha. She is an excellent dancer. We were a big hit. In the studio. I am painting Martha. I suggested the idea to Hans and he was enthusiastic. Why not? While I paint Martha he bangs the sister. I am painting her twice. One version is a high key. I have scrubbed a blinding wash of veronese green over a venetian red ground. Beneath the wash a little venetian red leaks thru. She wears a sweater. I like this sweater. It favors her. Its lemon yellow but I have painted it a cadmium red light. Colors are emotional. Every painter has his favorite colors. Mine is cadmium red light. It is the blinding veronese green of the wash that vividly pops the red of the sweater. I got this idea from a painting Matisse has done of his wife. The face I have modeled somewhat blankly. The intention here is to more prominently establish the eyes and mouth. She has a great mouth. I want to kiss this mouth. She has great hair. I have made this more abundant. There is hair, hair, hair The other painting has a different feeling. It is calm. The palette is cool. There is harmony here. But the idea is the same: There is hair, hair, hair and these blazing eyes and mouth. I like both paintings. They are coming along. I think I have captured something of the charm of this woman. The painter/model relationship is interesting. It is similar to the psychiatrist/patient relationship. Its a form of collaboration of intimate scope that occasionally leads to fucking. It is hard to say what is occuring here. I paint and while doing so am pouring a tremendous amount of energy into this woman. She seems to enjoy these visits. She says I seem normal for an artist. I am waiting for a signal. What is a signal? A signal is when they squeeze your cock. In the studio. I am painting Martha. We take a break. I make tea. I play music. We dance. We lash ourselves into a frenzy. We collapse in each others arms. I kiss this mouth. I fondle these breasts. I squeeze this ass. My dick is hard, hard, hard. *for previous installments and an intro to the book go to |
| next month: teaching |
| *installment 7: martha |
marth koch
by otto dix
by otto dix
dr hans koch
by otto dix
by otto dix