One of the eternal questions…

Found Textures

After the Snow Melts

Is it art?  What is art?  Is art in the eye of the beholder?  It may not be art, but you know what you like?  Is art for art’s sake? Does your art have to match the couch?

This is something I ponder. I am one of those people who sees patterns and art almost everywhere. Those transitional moments of bliss unique to conceptional art. I see art in the way the clouds frame the moon. The way gravel is pushed into patterns by water. The litter left behind after the snow melts. Rusted metal set into concrete.  Usually what I see is beautiful.  Sometimes it is sad and ugly. But it is still… something.

I ponder why art is important. Does it humanize us? Connect us to the minds and souls of others? Offer a glimpse into the collective zeitgeist? Recognize our common experience and give it a visual expression? And if it is so important, why is it so often either under-appreciated and underfunded or, even worse, shut up in ivory towers where only the favored and privileged can gain admittance?

I believe that art is everywhere. Underfoot. Containing our coffee and our casseroles. Enclosed between slats of gilded wood. On pedestals and in windows and sometimes the windows themselves. Attached to refrigerators with magnets and behind glass with armed guards. Some art is precious, some is transient, some lasting for the ages, some gone with the heat of the sun. I want us to be surrounded with art. Not the kind that only the very wealthiest can afford, but the kind that gives lightness to your heart, or makes you think, or changes your mood, or challenges you or makes you angry or brings you peace. Art made by a person. Touched by a person.  Touching a person.

My youngest son has decided he is going to be an artist. It is a distinct possibility. He is creative and very aesthetically minded. He likes found objects, as I do. He thinks about how things are constructed, as I do. He just built a better mask, with a moving mouth than I did.  Out of a cereal box, duct tape and elastic. I hope no one ever tells him that art is out of reach. That he can’t appreciate it because he doesn’t have the money to buy it. Art is not just for the elite. It is for everyone. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.

Art is everywhere. It is not always good art. Or great art. And it doesn’t need to be. For me, it would be unbearable to live in a museum, surrounded by exquisite beauty that was never meant to be touched and used. I would rather live in a house, brimming with things that please my eye, my palate, my sense of humor, my need for color and texture and patterns. Things for everyday use.  Things meant to be observed from across a room, that change with the light. Paintings, yes, and sculpture, but also glassware and pottery and furniture. Let’s have some fun with art. Let’s make art. Let’s buy art.

The Fame Clock

My view for the last 30 years!

The following paragraph was written a year ago exactly.  I have not revisited the blog in progress since then, for a variety of reasons – personal loss, stress, life in general.  Funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same.

“We are all familiar with the fame clock.  That clock that counts down your fifteen minutes of fame.  I think my clock is a little over that time.  I added a few more seconds yesterday, although it was for the 4:00 news, so maybe that only counts half.  The media has been running some fairly negative press about the economic outlook for the Short North, emphasizing the empty storefronts and diminished sales and increase in shoplifting.  Our NBC affiliate decided to do a more upbeat take and came down looking for some good news.  The fact of the matter is it is not all bleak out there.  Some businesses go out, others go in. Business is off from last year, but last year was incredibly good.  So the cycle continues.”

Fast forward a year and the fame clock is still ticking.  The New York Times ran a lovely article on the Short North last Sunday, in which I was quoted.  Our local CBS affiliate picked up the story and did a fabulous, upbeat story on the neighborhood, in which I appeared.  I am also in a WOSU (local PBS affiliate) documentary about the neighborhood, which aired for the first time last week. They are doing six documentaries on city neighborhoods – it just happened that the Short North was the first in the series.

Those vacant storefronts from a year ago are filled.  Even the food service spaces.  The store fronts that emptied just after the holidays are also filled. Brown paper and new signs abound.  One space, formally retail is going restaurant.  Actually, the one restaurant is taking three spaces, 2 retail, one office.  Concerning, but not fatal, as far as the fragile mix goes.  A jean store went out, a jean store goes in.  A futon place goes out – another jeans store goes in.  A clothing store goes out, a boutique goes in.  It is all good.  It is all new. And old.  The clock ticks for us all.

The Columbus Dispatch had a small tip of the hat to the Short North this morning based, again, on the Times article.  The author reflected that it is so great to see recognition from the outside, and bemoaned the lack of appreciation in the old hometown.  This is a valid concern and one that I always have.  We are here because of Columbus.  We will stay because of Columbus.  We can not survive without local support.  Yes, we are not the same place as back in the ’80s. Back when we were young and hip.  You do not stay young and hip forever, as much as you may want to.  You get married, have kids, a mortgage, a garden.  The things that anchor you to a time and a place. You need to remember, when you want to have a night out, we are here, so long as you keep coming to visit.  So long as you use us as a resource, for culture and cuisine, inspiration and a tiny bit of dissipation, unique and fabulous gifts for yourself and for others.

The Gallery Hop is still going after 25 years.  We are still here after 30 years. Watching the clock tick, the seasons and faces change.  The Short North really is an amazing neighborhood.  I am honored and proud to have been able to see the changes from my store front window, looking west down Buttles Ave.