I wrote here several months back about coincidence, those strange moments of synchronicity. You know, those times when someone who you haven’t spoken with in quite some time suddenly calls you just as you about to pick up the phone to call them. Or an old song comes into your head and you flip on the radio and there it is. There seems to never be a reason and the coincidences are seldom remarkable enough to wonder about for more than a moment.
I had one of those this morning when I was looking for a photo on one of my favorite sites, Luminous Lint. While scanning through a page of many small, unrelated images, the photo above caught my eye. Looking quickly at the small image on my screen it reminded me for a moment of one of my Red Chair paintings. It was an overturned chair set against a landscape. There was an immediate sense of loss, of someone having died in my quick reading of the shapes in the photo. It wasn’t until I looked at the larger image that I could see that the landscape was theatrical backdrop and the chair was on a stage.
The caption said that the circles on the backdrop were bullets holes and this was where Malcolm X was shot at Harlem’s Audobon Ballroom. I immediately wondered, for some unknown reason, when exactly that was. I knew it was around 1964 or 65 but wasn’t sure. I looked it up and there the date– February 21, 1965. Today’s date, forty nine years ago.
I am sure there was nothing in this. No deeper meaning. No connection or synchronicity with the movements of the universe. Just coincidence. But it makes one wonder why this photo and this date coincided this morning. I will try to keep my own chair upright today.