Café Musings

While sitting at one of the local art nouveau cafes in my neighborhood, my focus drifts a bit and I begin to listen. One can’t help but listen when out somewhere and alone. Our ears begin to filter the sounds and voices that shift through the soundscape. Sometimes I look for voices familiar to my own, other times it is the scraping sounds of dissonance and discord that I search for, something to match and balance out my own inward chatter. When people go out to eat, it can be hard to sense what they are looking for: approval, companionship, distraction? Or is it to enjoy the simple act of dining in the presence of people, participating in the natural flow of your city’s life?

The café that I go to is just a few blocks away from the gallery district in my city. As autumn filters through, the galleries are preparing for the next wave of local and student artists to bring out their latest creations for public viewing. Students whose work isn’t quite up to par will show their work in the university shows, which are held on campus in the student run galleries. I am glad that fall is finally settling in, bringing with it new inspiration and the same age-old questions to answer. For with these questions, there is always someone who comes up with a different way to answer the funny ponderings of daily and existential living. Finishing up my coffee, I head outside, hoping that someone has found a way to show us their answer to those simple and endless questions we all face: what’s it all mean?

Part Deux of the Artist Analysis

Hello again, blog readers! Here is the promised Part Deux of the artist analysis.
 
Painters: One of the more traditional of artistic disciplines, the painter is sort of a purist. Hopefully, a true passion for the subject matter and patience can yield the power to produce works of surprising beauty.

Performance: Mad genius or attention seeking buffoon?  An ability and willingness to experience and show real emotion is the true test of this sensitive creature. For extremely rational types, this may be a hard catch to swallow, but only time will tell of the wait was worth it.
 
Photographer: Life of the party, or simply watching from the wings? It can be hard to tell. A love for the subject matter as well as ambition and sex appeal can sometimes mask a goofy kid. Usually a charmer, this chameleon may stop at nothing in search of the perfect shot.
 
Print makers: I find this archetype to be the most meticulous of the group. A love of precision, control and clean lines denotes a slightly anal personality, but a love of experimentation and wit can often make it worthwhile.
 
So what do you think, sound like anyone you might know? I must remind you, these are my own personal observations based on my experience with such artists. But I would love to know what you think, so leave me  a comment if you agree or perhaps and with good reason, disagree. I would love to hear you thoughts.

The Sunday Painter

For a place that is reserved for quiet and a day of rest, libraries on a Sunday are some chattiest places on earth. As a former employee of the public library, one of my favorite conversationalists was an artist who went by the name of Matt C. He was” a big time glassblower in the ‘70’s”, as he put it, and knew all sorts of  amazing stories and people. He would feed them to me, bit by bit, enchanting me with tales of artists, week-end trips to New York and the artists that he had met, stories about his young daughter, and of course his own life and philosophies. He had since given up glass blowing but found he better enjoyed his days when he awoke each morning to work on a series of oil paintings about his ancestors. Staring at the canvasses on the wall, he would paint bits and pieces until it was as though they had finished themselves. He said it just felt better to walk through the world each day after he worked on these pictures of his life. After he finished them, they were shown at one of the local galleries in town. I found myself standing there with tears in my eyes as I saw the stories he had so carefully recounted to me coming through in soft, muted, earthy colors, generations living and breathing on the canvas. 

So this one goes out to the Sunday painters and library lurkers, the very salt of the earth. 

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