Brad Farlow

“The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination.”

The belief that one’s own view of reality is the only reality is the most dangerous of all delusions.

The attitude that nature is chaotic and that the artist puts order into it is a very absurd point of view, I think. All that we can hope for is to put some order into ourselves.

Recently a very old school friend got in touch via Facebook and we’ve been catching up. Who’s done what, who’s dead, who’s fallen off the radar screen, who surprised everyone by pulling a rabbit out of their life’s hat and become a great success. The reason he made contact was to invite me to a school reunion next summer, but reunions have never interested me. I like my memories as they are, like thousand year old insects preserved whole in amber. Old loves and grudges, the way things smelled that day out on the boat, or the strong metallic taste of fear in the mouth when we got caught stealing. Maybe it wasn’t that way at all. Maybe these memories are entirely wrong and I have created or been distorting them for decades. But most antique dealers will tell you never to clean up or polish old metal, leather, or wood because the patina that has built up on the surface over the years greatly enhances the look of the piece. So too with many memories, I believe.