A run-in with art can happen in unexpected places.
I was in Florida at a writer retreat. We’d fallen in the habit of doing exercise right away in the morning. This morning I chatted with my hubby while he walked to work and then walked myself. I daydreamed a cheater story and ended up walking four miles. It felt good.
When I got back, the rest of the ladies were up. We walked again. Without that drive to make my 10,000 steps, we ended up taking a slower more meandering route that brought us to one of the hostess’ neighbors.
He was an artist. Once on his land, my gaze would land on man-made changes which reflected him as an artist. An intentional pile of stones, an arrangements of plants with accessories, strings of glittering metal shapes hung like hair from the gazebo, and carved faces peered from between branches.
Even a massive tree root taller than I, had toppled and then been trimmed. A light was placed so it would shine through the tangled roots. I wanted to go back at night and see what the shadows would look like. Would it be spooky like a Halloween effect or would it be something more? I wondered if he did the trimming in the dark with just the light he’d attached to the roots shining through.
And then he opened his garage for us. Mixed media paintings covered the walls, Leather, stucco, and bold paint choices on canvases of closet door frames or random pieces of wood. The painting were of the lake or flowers or the world from space.
I was stunned by his work. He lived his art.
What do you do to live your art?