I’m the kind of person who actually enjoys, and often prefers, handmade gifts. Handmade things are art. I sometimes find a new kindred spirit, and when I do, I like to know their birthday and their art.
I tend to gather artists. Initially, most people will say, “Oh I’m not artistic.” They’re wrong. Lots of writers, absolutely. Plenty of friends in visual arts, especially photography, sure, but there’s music, there’s gardening, there’s cooking, sewing, design, woodworking, fashion — any number of artistic pursuits people overlook.
I’ll word it differently, “What do you create?”
Artists are my people. They think differently. They offer unique perspectives. For this reason, they live differently and for this reason they enrich my life.
“An artist’s eye,” I say all the time. Like charisma, people either have it or they don’t. Sometimes it’s an ear or a palate, but it’s a thing.
“It’s completely subjective,” They say.
I don’t believe it’s subjective. If a creation elicits an emotion, to me, it’s art.
My husband stands in front of modern art and declares it is not art. I smirk and I say, “But it is. You don’t like it, but it is art.”
“I could do that.”
“Okay, but did you? Did you even think to do it?”
(These awkward conversations are why I do not take my husband to art museums anymore.)
Today we went to a family reunion and we had a White Elephant Party. Years ago when we went, my MIL chose a painting done by my husband’s cousin. I wanted it, but MIL liked it so much, even though I could have taken it with my turn, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I very much wanted to choose a painting today, but paintings weren’t a choice.
I was number six this afternoon and near the front of the line to choose. I chose a white tube of soft. When I opened it, I gasped.
This is exactly the kind of surprise I wanted to find. I thought they were tea towels, and I was contemplating how I would display them, how I would use them, when another person shouted out how she’d like to have them. I was NOT prepared to hand over my tea towels, y’all. Just, no. Non et non et mais NON! The Mister said maybe he’d be far enough to the end to get them back for me. I hoped and hoped no one would take them, and no one did.
I walked over to thank the woman who made them, and discovered they were pillowcases. No question how to display and use them now, hm?
Lovely art, needlepoint. Not something I excel at, which makes me all the more appreciative of those who do.
SoCS ‘art’ is brought to you by the uniquely talented LindaGHill