Art

I really don't know much about art. I took a class or two in art history in college, and learned a little. I know what I like, and know that I have no skill in any sort of painting, drawing, sculpting, music, etc.

A friend of mine recently gave me two pieces of original art. It is the second piece I have ever received, and both came from friends I have met through the blog. The first was a photographic print, and a poem. I received these from a photographer in Chicago.

The most recent gifts were a painting and a pen and ink drawing. I am grateful for these pieces, truly. I own a book that this gifted man wrote and illustrated. I have read two of his other works online. They are raw. I don't mean unrefined. Perhaps gritty is a more apt description, but then, no. They are raw. Visceral. Evocative. Powerful.

The painting I was given is radically different. It is full of color; softer. Another side of the artist entirely. A side that was hinted at in some of his writing, some of his prints, but it bursts forth in this expression. It is remarkable.

I wanted a piece of his work to own, but never dreamed this is the piece he would chose to share with me. One of my fears is that his light might be lost one day, and with it his work, and then my memories will fade.

I have had a few telephone conversations with him, but many more email and online interactions. Some have been friendly, a few argumentative and even contentious. But that is the nature of human interaction.

To all of the artists out there - thank you.