Saturday, June 16, 2012
Art as life. Life as art.
You know those signs "In this family we do . . ." that are all the rage? We need one custom made that says just one thing, "In this family we do ART." On good and bad days and all the ones in between there is always something being created here. It's important like air. Dan and Delaney are especially gifted. (I know everyone thinks their child is the next Picasso but when push comes to shove they usually counsel them to choose a "REAL" major in college.) Delaney is a self proclaimed "guerilla" artist. She has been since she was two years old. There is absolutely not one day she does not create something. She is blessed to have an amazing art teacher at her school and is taking lessons this summer. Today she was working on the watercolor techniques she learned last week. I love she is trying new mediums, but for as long as I can remember her particular talent has been color and pattern. These are the pieces I keep and frame and gift. I know they will someday be part of her "early work" collection. (I love this one just below!) On most days each of us choose our favorite form of expression, turn up a playlist and elbow for room around the table.
When we moved here from Maryland I sold almost everything I owned and loved including my Arhaus table that sat four beautifully in our little kitchen but could flip out for a party of ten. We inherited a little set from my parents when we moved here. It was brand new for all intents and purposes last June and is now "wasted" by art. It is "wasted" by life. I kept it perfect and fussed and fretted until I was gone recovering from my brain surgery and fusion. Someone watching the girls let them use nail polish remover at the table . . . and again at my little black coffee table. It took the top finish off both of them. There was also a super glue incident hidden for days by one of my quilted placemats by none other than Dan. Tonight as I tried to scrub acrylic paint off the finish I realized I wasn't even the least bit peeved. This table was everything I wanted that super expensive piece of ash table to be . . . LIVED on. Every time our family talks about our "dream home" there is a table where art never has to be put away, where paint dries and stays put layer after layer, and someone is always creating something.
We don't own any Chagall or Monet, but we have collected beautiful pieces that mean something to us and speak to our journey. We have shed our lives of almost everything except this art. If you visit our home, wherever we land, you will know who we are because of the story our walls tell. Art as life. Life as art. All of it.
Posted by Monica Kaye at 9:13 PM