I was at Starbucks yesterday and saw this tiny art work on the concrete pole. Someone left it for all to see and admire.
At Starbucks, we always have young people doodling art, drinking their lattes, yucking it up with their friends. I find their art everywhere. This person just left their work for others to see.
I noticed last week that art is everywhere. I see it on the concrete pole at work, in my friend's beautiful yard, my customer that makes the weird necklaces and the guy that flies the plane that writes out words in the sky.
For Christmas day the pilot wrote out "Jesus--GOD" I think this is art.
This guy makes art in the kitchen. This is my husband, Chuck. He cooked us a seafood pasta for Christmas dinner that could make you cry, it was so good. I've always thought anyone who could cook was a true artist.
There is the hair dresser that creates a gorgeous hair style, the makeup artist, sky writers, doodlers, aquarium designers, landscapers and gardeners, chefs, photographers, florists, wedding planners, barista's (huh?) yeah, that's me. The list goes on and on. The world is full of artists.
Why is it so hard to claim the word "artist" if you do art all the time?
Why do we shrink away from the term and say "Not me!"?