A long time ago, when I was very young, I ran away from college and 
landed in the Big City to be surrounded by art. In the Big City, I panicked, I became overwhelmed, and I gave up art, on the corner of 57th Street and Madison Avenue, in the act of stepping off a granite curb to cross the street. Strange memory.
Gradually, insistently, year after year, art called me back. I finally answered. How could I keep resisting such persistent love? I could make a case that art loved me so much it broke up my marriage.
I don't think I can ever love art as much as art loves me. But I am not getting another divorce. Art and I are committed for life.
(And yet--if I only would love art as much as art loves me, what amazing worlds we could create together.)
Form, function, art, life, love, light.
Gaia smiles when lovers dance,
John :)
Posted by: John Eaton | September 05, 2007 at 01:16 PM
Whew! And here I thought I was the only one longing to love art as much as it loves me...
Fab post -- and followed the breadcrumbs from Shelly's blog and John's to yours.
:-)
Posted by: Lori Witzel | September 09, 2007 at 10:22 PM
I have read from September 18 through to here. I plan to keep on reading. I am so glad you found my blog so I could find yours. You have created a true gift of a space - and then there's your Diva bowls. They take my breath away!
Posted by: Tammy Vitale | September 19, 2007 at 07:55 AM
Hi Tammy, thank you for coming and visiting. Thanks for your appreciation.
Lori, I am coming back to see you again soon.
Art calls us.
carla
Posted by: Carla Sanders | September 20, 2007 at 07:57 PM