It’s my deadline today and I’ve been putting off my essay on the crown of Monomachus for weeks. I’m in a cafe at Marchmont Street, in London, dedicating as much time to trawling the Internet for journal articles as for people watching in the dim evening. The sources I could find on the crown only contributed to analysis paralysis: explanations of Christian theology, references to possible Persianate influences, all the way to questioning whether the crown is even authentic or a really good 19th-century knockoff!
I think what contributed to my near-misses and mad-dashes towards essay deadlines were the fact that texts on art history seem to pride themselves in speaking in ciphers. These writings are sometimes just as mysterious as the artworks they seek to demystify. In the process, they actually offer more questions than answers.
I once gave advice to someone who was applying for an art history masters that the most important thing is having a unique line of inquiry. What makes the way you write about that painting different from the thousands of other tweed-armoured academics who already have?