Here in the richest country in the world, we are inundated by stuff. Cool stuff, fun stuff, useful stuff, junk…so many judgements to make!

As I’ve grown older, I find that I don’t want a lot of things. But I do want the “right” things. The things that excite me.

I’ve learned that if you want to find out what really makes your blood pump, you have to slow down and attend to things. My heart pounds loudest for things that speak of the work of the hand, and pulse with the energy of their creation.

Too many objects today speak only of efficiency, uniformity, and empty seduction. These things may make a contribution to my daily life, but I can’t say I treasure them. Why not? I think it has a lot to do with how easily they can be replaced.

Artists, on the other hand, design their work to be kept forever. They want their pieces to take on the patina that comes from years of being touched. This quality is what distinguishes an artist from a designer. The artist trusts the process of making, rather than imposing an artificial uniformity, and engages in an ongoing dialogue with materials and techniques, instead of engineering rules, to force the variables into submission. Rather than assuming control, the artist opens a channel of communication with the material and prepares to have a conversation.

The sparks generated by that conversation are possibility, discovery, something unforeseen. The resulting objects are the product of an individual testing his or her abilities and renewing the act of creation.

I want to support that effort. Living with the objects made by artists reminds me who I am and what I value. It helps me make a home that reflects me. I am making the statement, “This is not just mine. This is me.”

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 2nd, 2006 at 6:06 pm and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can also leave a response.