I love the wind. When an unseen force can visibly affect the situation of your scarf, your hair, it is an amazing thing. Exhilarating, actually. And inspiring. I felt the first hint of autumn in the wind a few days ago, and it stirred sleeping bits of my heart.
I love Pineapples. They are the yellow-greenest taste I've ever experienced. they are perfectly sweet and sour, but not at all angry. Elizabethan portraits are wonderful. The details in the dress is spectacular.
I love people. I love the communities that I have been enveloped in, kindred spirits. And I talk to my plants. I like remembering moments when I was little playing in the woods. I spoke to so many plants and they all had very interesting things to say in return. I love the lilting voice of creeks and rivers, and the operatic voice of waterfalls. I'm so thankful I can hear.
I love being in a museum, looking at a work of art and trying to figure out what everyone else around me is thinking about it. I wonder how they look at it. Do they analyze it formally, or do they soak it up first, without a thought in their head, before they attempt understanding (like me)? Do they think about the way their eyes flow across the canvas/paper/stone, or do they have a hard controlling their excited eyes?
Today I learned about language families and origins of languages. How amazing is the human mind?! And the imagination! Many times, it seems, optimists should be called imaginists.
I love the colors in pearls and oil puddles. I always wanted to step in the puddles so that my footprints would be pearly. Eyes would be lovely if they were pearly. But eyes already are. Looking at eyes is like seeing threads and forests and jewels and frozen storms all at once. Or like seeing a bit of someone's soul under a microscope.
The interaction of the senses is very interesting to me. You see a vase of flowers, then your mind tells you what it is, the come to mind all of the other sensual connections you have with the object, how it smells, what it feels like, and of course attached memories. All from a glimpse.
Wayne Thiebaud's Candy Counter 1969-The jar in the upper-right corner is one of the most wonderful things I've ever seen. Jawbreaker Machine 1963 is exciting too. I saw one of his rows of cake slices at the Frist during a pop art exhibit. I definitely prefer his approach to that of Warhol, Lichtenstein, etc. Thiebaud's later works are just as colorful and decadent as his early desserts. Green River Lands 1998 is stunning, as is his Reservoir and Orchard 2001. Apartment Hill 1980 is amazing. In it he has created a living thing out of a piece of earth and the buildings and cars of humans. It is interesting that the juxtaposition of those two things could communicate a figure to me, but it does. It's beautiful.
I love the feeling you get when you know a painting is finished. That experience wouldn't be half as rewarding if it wasn't terrible having a half-finished work about, or even worse, a piece that looks done, but you know deep down inside that it isn't.
It is the fact that we must die that makes being alive so fantastic and amazing and mind-blowing.
Freckles are funny things, proof that God loves irregular patterns. But then, there isn't anything irregular about where each one is placed, very precise. Now that is meticulous.
I love the taste of dark chocolate and the smell of coffee. I think that somewhere in time, that smell and taste were separated. They should belong to the same thing. Dark chocolate should smell like coffee.
Oo! I love the soft fluffy bed of purple and frosted thorns that are a thistle. I love the crazy, curling explosion of abandon that is a passion flower. If I were a fairy, I would wear a passion flower hat.
I love being with my family and remembering through (primitive) technology my childhood. I loved seeing a 5 year old me fly through the house in a red toga and devil hat, with Gabe close behind dressed like Miss Muffett. I love the affirmation that photos and videos give to our memories.
Earth is the largest work of installation art ever, and it is constantly changing. We should stop and notice this more. Every person is an ever changing work of art, with so many things to communicate, like art.
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