A New Perspective

It’s always good to get a new perspective . . . to challenge yourself to see, think and feel in a new way, simply so your energy and enthusiasm gets stirred up and you can see what incredible things happen.

Found this old photo of me and my sister — just kids having fun looking at the world upside down. Marlene’s expression is priceless, and my memories are more so. It got me thinking about how original art can have that effect on an audience, whether we are engrossed in actors on a stage, musicians on a corner or paintings on a wall. Experience the real thing, then hang on to it, tell your friends about it, relive it with your dog, post pictures of it and write about it. Then do it again.

ArtsQuest was last weekend, and what a delight it was, experiencing not only original art in all forms, but sharing it with art lovers of all ages. A young girl hugged a painting I created and stories were told of art that moved people, spoke to people and turned their day upside down.

Be original. Buy original art. Get the tickets. Experience the real thing. But most of all, try a new perspective today.

The Color of Love . . . and a granddaughter’s memories

It’s summertime and it’s someone’s birthday in the family.  I can see Babci walking to the backyard garden.  She always wore a cotton dress, long and loose, covered with an apron.  I’m thinking about my grandmothers today as a get ready for another Art After Hours at the galley.  Valentine’s day is just around the corner, and I thought a pink theme would be fun for the refreshments I’ll serve.  “Babci” (pronounced bob-chi) is Polish for grandmother, and she lived next door to us.  She made beet soup — nothing I would have eaten as a child even though it was the prettiest color pink.  There was just something about beets that did not excite this little granddaughter.

The excitement came with MomMom’s strawberry sheet cake.  MomMom was my dad’s mother.  Babci was my mom’s.  Anyway, MomMom was famous for bringing that cake to everyone’s birthday party, probably because it fed a crowd, and it was always a hit with everyone in my rather large Catholic family.   

I’ve never tried to make that strawberry sheet cake nor borscht, but I thought both would be the perfect color for my pink party tonight.  Both have passed the taste test with flying shades of rose, and there will be many other pretty things presented for the palate.

This morning, as I continue with the chopping, mixing, rolling, poking and plating in preparation for the gallery gathering, I am reminiscing about my wonderful grandmothers, who added that happy color to my life — it’s the color of love, and I hope you can join me this evening to share in art . . . in love . . . and in life.

Balls to the Walls

Going balls to the walls in preparation for ArtWalk tomorrow — pumpkin balls and meatballs, that is.  Throwing in a pepperoni and sun-dried tomato tortellini toss and cranberry-feta pinwheels, along with mozzarella rounds on marinated vegetable kabobs because you need your veggies.  The white wine and beers are chilling as the cookies are baking.  It’s supposed to start raining soon, so I started loading the car with easels, glassware, flatware, napkins, serving platters and coolers.   

I love ArtWalks, and tomorrow’s should be exceptional.  The gallery looks great — all the new art gets me excited to share.  I am so thankful that we have the space not only for the community to enjoy, but also for the talented artists to unveil their latest creations.  Every day is a good day to walk through the gallery, but ArtWalk is more fun because you mix a group of great people with good food and you get joy all around.

So please stop by if you can.  East End Gallery is on the east side of Shades Bar & Grill, on the east end of 30A in Inlet Beach. My buddy Gary wasn’t available to play guitar, but iTunes will be on, the balls will be ready and the walls will amaze your senses as we celebrate “Moments & Memories,” the latest collection.

I almost forgot . . . just because . . . for every person who attends ArtWalk, my family will donate $10 to St. Rita’s Hurricane Relief efforts in Panama City, Blountstown and Marianna.  You don’t need to purchase anything, just come visit and enjoy.  As Dr. Seuss said . . .

“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.” 

Let’s make some memories.

Lori

Remembering Why

She was six, sweet and showed me the future in a six-by-six sketch of love.

Ila Elizabeth stopped by the gallery last evening for ArtWalk.  She wasn’t on the hunt for something to eat or drink.  She strolled in to see the art.  She didn’t simply glance either.  She studied each piece and was quick to tell her aunt what she saw and felt.  I saw something special in her, but I didn’t see the future until she came back after dinner, holding her drawing, wanting to share her creation.

It was love, captured in pencil, by a super power in her special brain, and all I wanted to do was hug her.  She reminded me why my own world is consumed by art — creating it, sharing it and encouraging others to do the same, making a space so artists can use their special powers to enhance life and stir emotion.

She is our future, and there is hope for a world when love can be found in the heart and passed through a pencil, creating a lasting image that feels like a hug.

Thank you, Ila.  Here’s a little me with a big hug for you.

 

Where Did That Come From?

Some days, it can feel like magic . . . you go to work in the studio, stand for hours making strokes with paint, and you end up with a “wow” and you question, “where did that come from?” And other days, you start the same but finish with an “ugh” and you question, “where did THAT come from?”

The process of making art is always magical to me, always a time to get lost in the search for something wonderful. On a good day, the process brings a sigh of satisfaction and sense of peace. On a not-so-good day, the process can be painful, and worst of all, that little voice of negativity says the hours were wasted once again. Those are the days I have to quiet the voice and say there is no waste when there is learning.

So where is the consistency? I have not found it yet. I don’t know where it comes from, but I have a feeling that it can be found in perseverance. Or maybe consistency is the carrot I chase, believing with each “wow” that it can be caught.

Today I will gladly try again, and I hope you will, too. Make something beautiful or make someone smile. And know that it came from inside of you.