I could not have more praise for Louise Bourgeois and her macabre mathematical mind. There is precision, obsession, distraction, in her art. Certainly, she knows exactly what she’s doing. The work she produces is a calculated representation of her past, her present, her pains. The beauty, of these pieces, is overwhelming.
The enormity of her suffering, understood though it is, has surely only been eased (suppressed) by creating works that require dedication and calculation to match or surpass a pain accepted, but not yet subsided?

Embroidering chance, and found objects, into absolute intention to sculpt unquestionable inspiration to us civilianoids, Louise Bourgeois is a scientist of emotion, and material.

I, myself, was moved eventually to tears by a bronzed piece ‘Spiral Woman’. No explanation, just a something that triggered another something inside of me – maybe related to a something in my past that’s something I haven’t dealt with, hmm...err. Ah, a little suffering never hurt anyone.

I missed her. Twice. I would like to have not missed her. Yes. Both times.
I would also have liked her to stand on the stage in the blackness, that solitary light encompassed only Papa M/David Pajo, the musician she backed on the album Whatever, Mortal. The haze of that Sunday morning at All Tomorrow’s Parties this past April, at which she performed, denied me some things.
She’s Tara Jane O’Neil- not only a musician, but an artist, she matches sparse, folky sounds with charming and poetic, almost autumnal, illustrations. The other event that passed me by, due to absent memory capacity, was her exhibition at the 96 Gillespie Gallery, a gallery which seems to bring many (American) musicians artworks to life, and to London. Fortunately, they archive their shows online, so if you missed it, as I did, then only negligence would allow you to miss this.