I was standing with my nose about ten inches from the glass on the picture framed in a tiny corner made by two standing walls, one large and white, the other, only big enough to hang this tiny picture on that I'm standing too close as to be appropriate, but I can't help myself.
Someone at dinner had said to me, "So, you're an artist."
And I had fumbled around and managed to insecurely say "Yes" to that statement. This is the 3rd year in a row I'd been selected for this particular Juried Art Show, a different piece had been chosen by 3 different jurors... and still I felt like an imposter, in a world I wasn't worthy of.
That moment in the gallery — a full body sensation came over me.
I let it wet me and crash to the ground with a shudder.
What a wave. What a joy. Feeling feelings, deeply, with my whole self.
I was happy.
Anything that moves me to FEEL something.... Music, poetry, painting, photography, video, sculpture, dance, food, sex, whatever....
Art IS real.
I felt immense gratefulness for being moved by that tiny piece of blue paint on the wall and simultaneously the live music that was being played by the band a few feet away... I felt thankful to be alive.
I could sense there is a place in the world for anything that elicits this type of emotion. There is a beautiful reason for anything that moves me to feel my own humanity.