Art Does NOT Watch The Weather Channel

This morning’s walk to work was just like any other. In fact it could have been the EXACT same walk as yesterday, minus the rain and snow.  Or the day before that with the exception that I was colder today due to wearing a dress.  Anyway, as I power walked to work thinking about the day ahead and the hopeful happy hour that laid before me, I couldn’t help but long for the summer… How do all these people work outside all day? I mean I prefer the outdoors and fresh air over the cube, but OH man was it windy out. 

So I continued to glide down Fifth Avenue when BOOM. There he was.  An older gentleman painting the most amazing and intense NYC side walks and sky scraper scenery’s I have ever seen.  I never realized how much I loved oil paint and it’s ability to capture the movement of a fast moving city. So I stopped dead in my tracks and marveled at his art. And it wasn’t just me. At least two other suits beside me stopped to admire.  What struck me the most was that not only was it freezing out, but because the wind was so strong,  his easel swayed back and forth.  It was nerve wracking to watch him. But, he was as peaceful as if it were a nice spring afternoon.   His desire to paint outweighed and overshadowed the need to be warm.

When I finally came out of my art coma, realized I was still en route to begin another day at my completely non-creative day and my heart ached.  But this also gave me some interesting thoughts to ponder… 

  • This old man IS an artist.  The fact that his art did  not care that not only was it cold out, but god awful windy. It needed the streets of New York and didn’t care how it was getting there.
  • I envy people who have this passion within.  I sometimes wonder if I’ll always be an appreciator or will someday be the creator to inspire.
  • What a nice life to be able to wake up, look out the window and think, “hmm maybe I’ll go sit on Fifth Avenue and pain a couple pictures today”…
  • I wonder how much he charges for his paintings.  I am really not in a financial place where I can be supporting the arts. But they were SO amazing….sigh…. Maybe if I go back later and ask, he’ll just give one to me.  Or maybe he’ll be super cold by then, and would willingly trade my hat, mittens, and scarf for one. Hell take my coat too. I would give them to him with open arms in exchange for some fantastic art.
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