Art and design are so important to our everyday lives. Think of the obvious first: clothing, jewelry, the artwork on our walls. But what about more utilitarian items like bedding, kitchen utensils, furniture, our cars? Everything around us was created and designed by someone with the express purpose of making it appealing, and in many cases, functional and easy to use. (If something was designed badly, we notice it right away.) If we didn’t care so much about how things appear, they would be devoid of color, interesting shape or design. We’d all be living in a white alien movie set, and our lives would be boring.
The same idea can be applied to other areas of our lives: the music we listen to, the things we read, the entertainment we watch. Many of the designers, musicians and performers who influence the majority of daily lives work for companies or corporations. But what about the aspiring independent artists? We know that making a living while pursuing one’s passion can be a real challenge. Who among us hasn’t seen a great musician or band at a little club or some other venue, and wonder why their songs aren’t played on the radio? Or we might buy a children’s book that was self-published by a local author and illustrator. Or we might go and see a play by a local theater group where we recognize some of our favorite hometown actors. Our world is full of talented people who are real gems, people who balance workaday lives while pursuing their dreams. That’s why it’s so important to support artists of all kinds, particularly those who live among us. Without them, our lives would be a lot less colorful and inspiring. Go to an art fair, attend a performance, and share what you’ve experienced with others. And the next time you’re out and about, realize that the barista, the cashier, or the library assistant could be an artist, someone who has been, or will be, working to create something wonderful that day.
With our unseasonably warm temperatures, spring is upon us in a rush, and shows no sign of stopping. Within a few days all the flowering trees have burst into bloom: magnolias, cherries, Bradford pears, and redbuds; clouds of flowers billow in the sky. Our green, green yards are punctuated by daffodils and crocus, and the uncut grass ripples in the gusty winds. It has all happened so fast, coming on the heels of another long winter, that I want it to slow down so I can savor each bit in its own time. But not this year. There’s no choice but to accept it all gratefully, like the cats who sit in the open windows and let the breezes wash over them, ears darting at the birdsounds beyond the screens.
