I like the word “absurd” and mental images it conjures – ridiculous, silly, incongruous . . . like a duck on a bike. Birds in Art artist David Milton agrees. He chose his painting’s subject – the 1950s tin toy – at the start of the coronavirus quarantine as a metaphor for the absurdity of the situation we are experiencing.
This blog post previews one example of the inventive teamwork behind this fall’s visually focused Art Park installation, as the typical hands-on, interactive stations and art projects familiar to visitors aren’t possible during the coronavirus pandemic.
Literature and art are natural companions; children’s illustrated literature is an early introduction to both.
A guaranteed way to increase my blood pressure and heart rate is to ask me to take a moment to be in the moment. Be mindful. Clear the mind of clutter and focus on sensory stimuli. Concentrate on breath.
As I write this, Art Park is completely transformed. If you were a fan of the Art Park of yore, don’t fret.
With a background in sociology and comparative religious studies, I’ve done my share of navel-gazing; with a career in gallery engagement, artwork-gazing is a daily ritual. Imagine my bliss when an art exhibition encompasses more than a process, medium, or movement and extends to a worldview.
It’s the laugh that I miss.
Joe had a marvelous baritone laugh. It wasn’t belly-splitting or loud or protracted. It was warm and inviting . . . the kind of laugh that interrupted your thoughts and made you look at his face, with the gentle eyes and amiable smile.
May is hustle-bustling along, as it does each year. The glorious angle of the sun’s rays produces light and once again, warmth . . . igniting a burst of busyness. Those who live in northern climes truly appreciate the enterprise awakened with the daffodils and by the robin’s song.