Lately I've been really into buying art. Not fancy pants stuff but stuff I just love. Today I was looking through the coffee table book of Steve McCurry photographs (his Afghani girl with green eyes photo is perhaps one of the most well known photos ever) and was just amazed at how I can like many photos, can appreciate the technique and value of others and then there are just a few that almost made my head buzz I like them so much.
Last summer I walked around the Bellevue Arts fair, which takes up the mall parking garage for a long weekend every summer and came away with two strong emotions: first, I just want my life to be full of beautiful things. And second, a sort of desperation at how expensive it can be. (Side note: I wonder if modern tools and technology have made making really wonderful art more accessible and affordable. I imagine so. There's just so much crap out there too)
There's this feeling when you find a piece of art you love that honestly feels like love. It may sound overly dramatic but it really is true. It doesn't happen often, but when it does there's this feeling of completeness, if only for a moment. I'm sure there's some quote from the Goldfinch about it, which I read recently, something about how you see this beautiful thing and get lost in it. It makes you happy or sad or confused or whatever. I get back to reality pretty quick, but that moment is memorable.
Purchases of late:
1. Rising by Robert Tandecki
This was one I saw at the Bellevue Arts Fair last year. Loved it. Knew Porter would love it, and talked myself out of buying it. I thought about it enough times that I tracked down the guy down and bought it from his house in Sumner. Felt very shady, even though it wasn't.
The orca is Porter's spirit animal. The mountains are his inspiration. And he lives for the sea. And it sure does look nice.
2. Pancakes by Pascal Campion
I follow Pascal's daily sketches on Instagram (as should everyone, I say). He is a genius with color and depicting moments, usually around family life and cities that are entirely relatable. Some of my favorites show a kid staring up at the sky, a series of activity in a kitchen, and a potty training celebration.
I bought this one because one, Pascal was having an Instagram followers sale where I saved like four bucks, and two, this is so me and Porter. The light. The energy. The smiles that match Porter's and mine when I just want to kiss him hard and he's in the middle of doing something productive.
3. Melancholy by Edward Degas
I saw this at a museum once, I can't remember where, but I remember it was on a dark blue wall and I kept coming back to it. Melancholy, I think, is one of the most potent emotions. Even though the way I experience it, it almost feels like a non-emotion. Difficult to articulate but it is easy to identify. I can track emotional times in my life by memorable bouts of melancholy.
So I loved it like I haven't many pieces of art hanging in museums and I think about it sometimes even when not feeling melancholy, there's something so familiar about her expression. So I bought it. And now I own it. And I can look at it whenever I want.
Last summer I walked around the Bellevue Arts fair, which takes up the mall parking garage for a long weekend every summer and came away with two strong emotions: first, I just want my life to be full of beautiful things. And second, a sort of desperation at how expensive it can be. (Side note: I wonder if modern tools and technology have made making really wonderful art more accessible and affordable. I imagine so. There's just so much crap out there too)
There's this feeling when you find a piece of art you love that honestly feels like love. It may sound overly dramatic but it really is true. It doesn't happen often, but when it does there's this feeling of completeness, if only for a moment. I'm sure there's some quote from the Goldfinch about it, which I read recently, something about how you see this beautiful thing and get lost in it. It makes you happy or sad or confused or whatever. I get back to reality pretty quick, but that moment is memorable.
Purchases of late:
1. Rising by Robert Tandecki
This was one I saw at the Bellevue Arts Fair last year. Loved it. Knew Porter would love it, and talked myself out of buying it. I thought about it enough times that I tracked down the guy down and bought it from his house in Sumner. Felt very shady, even though it wasn't.
The orca is Porter's spirit animal. The mountains are his inspiration. And he lives for the sea. And it sure does look nice.
2. Pancakes by Pascal Campion
I follow Pascal's daily sketches on Instagram (as should everyone, I say). He is a genius with color and depicting moments, usually around family life and cities that are entirely relatable. Some of my favorites show a kid staring up at the sky, a series of activity in a kitchen, and a potty training celebration.
I bought this one because one, Pascal was having an Instagram followers sale where I saved like four bucks, and two, this is so me and Porter. The light. The energy. The smiles that match Porter's and mine when I just want to kiss him hard and he's in the middle of doing something productive.
3. Melancholy by Edward Degas
I saw this at a museum once, I can't remember where, but I remember it was on a dark blue wall and I kept coming back to it. Melancholy, I think, is one of the most potent emotions. Even though the way I experience it, it almost feels like a non-emotion. Difficult to articulate but it is easy to identify. I can track emotional times in my life by memorable bouts of melancholy.
So I loved it like I haven't many pieces of art hanging in museums and I think about it sometimes even when not feeling melancholy, there's something so familiar about her expression. So I bought it. And now I own it. And I can look at it whenever I want.
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