an open conversation
a way of seeing
a choice of being.
I have a large painting in my breakfast room. Its presence demands attention if for no other reason than it’s size. Over the years it has become a sort of Rorschach for defining Art with a capital A.
The thread usually goes like this: Art is an objective, measurable commodity. Its value is directly proportional to who did it, how well they’re known, and how much it costs. The thinking here is that because most of us non-artists are conditioned to defer our aesthetic sensibilities to ‘experts’, we can’t really judge greatness until we learn how and what to see.
Then there’s this one: a work of Art is more like a personal conversation between creator and viewer. Its value lies in how it makes us feel—does it awaken us, or shake us, or invite us to a place we didn’t know we could go? In this scenario, our heart and gut are the measure.
You might ask, why does it really matter? For me as an amateur art lover, it’s because these kitchen talks have taught me something invaluable: the appreciation of art vs. Art is not complicated at all. It’s simply a willingness to stop, be still for a minute, and take time to see.
And by the way, looking is always free.