Dad and I sat this morning having coffee and reading the paper. We started talking about making art and the drive behind the artist. We thought about the LOFT building that for 20 years has housed artists who daily go to their studios to make art. None of us have “made-it” and most of us have had jobs to support our need to make art. Fame and recognition is out of reach and yet the drive to make beauty is never lost. It becomes a purpose and a life source beyond description. Success in the worldly sense has always been within arms reach for all these artists but never quite making into to the big times, the galleries du jour. Yet you have artists upstairs in the Loft in their 60’s-80’s making art everyday…and happy in their studio to have the grace to do so. Why? How is this possible….the daily determination to make marks on canvas or reshape clay…something to say to others…sharing a story…searching and finding beauty…quietly in their studios. There is a story there…many stories of the creative spirit, the artist who slips through the cracks and all the while picking up the essence of life in a recreated formula of sacred solitude.
One day if you have time…it could be a short film. Maybe the secret of life well lived is right under our noses!