I drive by something like this and I have a hundred questions.
Did someone just put that blue chair there because they liked the way it looked?
Does someone actually sit in that chair and watch the view?
Do they use the building?
Who made the rag rug chair cushion.
Does an artist live in this house?
There isn't anybody around to ask.
There is just this wonderful old building that just recently acquired this old, painted, blue chair, on it's step.
You know if I had unlimited resources I would do something like this all over the place. A bright red school desk out in the middle of a freshly cut farm field.
A purple chair sitting under a lone tree in a field.
When we lived in Madison there was a city park near our house. One year a large green fake crocodile appeared, way up on a limb, of a large old oak tree.
Who ever placed it there had a long ladder because it wasn't a easy to climb tree.
The crocodile was at least 5 feet long, bright green with large yellow and pink dots painted on it. It remained up in the tree for the entire summer.
Then someone removed it.
I know it brought a smile to my face when the kids and I walked by it. I imagine it brought joy to other folks as well.
I love to see art out in nature. I love to see the odd and unexplained right in front of me. I like the fact that my brain has to turn this image over in it's mind, make sense of it, dismiss it, analyze it, then turn it over to the emotional department so it can be enjoyed.
It makes me sad when I see random art destroyed by people, usually, children that don't understand or appreciate it's value. It's like the impulse small children have, at the beach, to kick or topple a sand structure and usually not something that they made. They have no concept of what went into the creation. It reminds me of the image I saw a while back of the Buddhist monks, in a mall, creating one of their incredible sand mandalas.
This small boy ran over and destroyed some of it.
The monks smiled.
They nodded their heads.
The removed the destroyed part and resumed putting the design back.
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I'm taking a moment here because I don't have that understanding yet.
I don't have that connection with the universe and "that which can not be named".
I'm still wallowing down here, on earth, at the emotional level.
The least I would have done is glared at the child, remembering that I was in a public place and his mother, I hope was nearby.
Once and only once during a meditation class did I ever experience that Universal space of Oneness.........that amazing comprehension of utter and complete LOVE, pure LOVE. And, that doesn't even come close to expressing what that moment of pure bliss was about.
But, I couldn't hold on to it. I could recall it. But, I can't hold it fore front in my mind and look at humanity with the eyes that have seen and experienced that.
I wish I could. I keep trying and that's the best I can do. So, part of me wants to believe that I have the ability and potential to look at that small child with love and understanding and see his pure beauty and KNOW that art can be redone and re created.
Do you see what happens to me
when I start to contemplate
a blue chair?