Yesterday I spoke with two people that are associated with the local arts community here in Utah. They had reached out to me, exploring a bit of colleagueship. And what is always underneath that, a bit of friendship. We found both in a few shared stories and a few wonderings through some questions that centered in passion and love for people and human endeavor. There’s an art to finding such immediate connection together. I’m glad for that.
This morning, on USA Thanksgiving Day, as I watch snow fall gently outside my kitchen window, and as I await my daughter coming over to bake Thanksgiving Day pie crusts, I read from Kent Nerburn’s book, “Letters to My Son,” this passage on art:
“Art can work its magic any time you are in the presence of work created by someone who has gone inside the act of creation to become what they are creating. When this takes place time stands still and, if our hearts are open to the experience, our spirits soar and our imaginations fly unfettered. You need these moments if you are ever to have a life that is more than the sum of ordinary daily affairs.”
This Nerburn book has become a favorite for me. I have scribbled in my copy and bent many dog-eared pages so that I might find my way back to passages and images that are as yummy as Thxgiving Day pie crusts. I tend to keep an extra copy or two, so as to be able to gift to people on the path of finding such inner artistry.
Yup. That art-filled, creative power, is what so many of us seek, and what many more of us are coming to remember, is found in connection and community. I’m glad for that too.