Tuesday, February 24, 2009
The question on my mind lately is: what is real? This past summer while on vacation, Darren and I stumbled upon several new art galleries. Technically, they were not "new", but they were new to us. So, we are on vacation and enjoying ourselves, the boys happy with their ice cream and as we enter a particular gallery we are met by a woman overdressed for August in a resort town in northern Michigan. She informs us of the masterpieces within this here gallery. Fine. She tells us way more than any vacationer wants to know. She puts on a video of one of the artists she represents. We have two boys outside eating ice cream. I'm in no postition to watch or entertain watching some video of a guy painting. The paintings were fine, really good even. The buttoned-up woman says, "would you like a price on anything?" "No" I say. This is where she announces....and I did believe it was an announcement...."this is the real deal", over her glasses, the ones hanging off her nose. I'll admit it , it bugged me. No, it more than bugged me, because here it is February 2009 and I'm still thinking about it and it STILL bugs me. Who is to say what the real deal is? Is it an expert? An expert of what? Art is all real, even if it isn't. I mean, it is a vision, a feeling, a moment, a memory , a story, an idea, a purpose, a plan, a journey, a question, an answer. It is real. Want to know what is not real....claiming one way to do anything. Art is our collective and indivdual human-ness. It is what can heal us, humor us, teach us, remind us, challenge us and take us to the moon and back. That's real. That is authentic. And I'll take authentic over a "real deal" any day. Even six months later.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
This is an easy and meaningful gift. For youself or someone you love. These are the lyrics to the first song Darren and I danced to at our wedding. Downstream by Supertramp. Written in my own natural handwriting on beautiful linen paper with just the right ink color, it is matted and framed and hangs in our bathroom. I LOVE the handwritten note, letter, recipe card, anthing really. I found an old letter from my grandma not too long ago. To find someone's handwriting and to trace their loops and tangles across the page is powerful. Who's handwriting would you like to see again? What song would you like to be reminded of each morning? What speaks to you?