20x16 acrylic on canvas
| Not so sure we’re getting better or wiser, so much as just getting more efficient as we grow older. Like German automobiles. As if our days, nights, weeks, months and years are simply life components which need to be reengineered for maximum productivity. We make “to do” lists, cut out the fluff, then begin checking these off, one by one, from sun up to sun down, day after day after day.We might accomplish more, or forget less, and at the end of the day reflect on the shallow emptiness associated with having mastered the art of time management. We even schedule our fun, penciled in Saturday nights from 7pm to 10:30pm, and know exactly what type of wine and cheese we’ll enjoy a full seven days in advance. Now, this could all be interpreted as a rather large slice of art blog pessimism, and perhaps it is. But it isn’t with hope.You don’t have to be a slave to the list.
You can wake up and ignore the damn thing. Throw on some grubby jeans, grab a camera and drive somewhere unusual. Walk through the mud, climb a hill and look at the trees. There are birds singing in the woods and shafts of sunlight splitting through the canopy of nature, right here in the suburbs. No soccer games or Little League or other such malarkey. No meetings or band concerts or work functions. Nothing but an endless series of unfamiliar paths through the brush, lined with wild flowers of a million different vibrant colors. In nature, there are funny smells and rocks which can be skipped across ponds and clouds and wind and laughter. There is still fun to be had for those courageous enough to trash can all those pesky things which supposedly need to get done. I know this to be true, because I’ve done it. Forget the list? That’s something I plan “to do” more of next year. |
