Why are we compelled to collect things?
On one of my hikes last summer I picked up this rock along the path. There's nothing particularly special about this rock. It's a pretty normal looking rock. But I liked it for some reason. So I placed it in my pocket and brought it home. I had a bunch of smaller, polished stones in a platter back at my house and placed this stone in the middle of them. It didn't match the others. It was huge in comparison, and dull, and full of holes.
Later that summer when I was getting ready for one of my art festivals I grabbed that stone and brought it with me. Why? I'm not sure. I actually used it to form an Obos in my booth during that show. Only a few people noticed the small stack of three stones on top of the table in my booth, and asked me about it. But ever since, I just keep it with all my 'stuff' that I take to my shows, so it's always there -- somewhere.
At my last show I found it among all my 'stuff' in a drawer, and during one of the slow periods I placed it on the ground in front of my booth and pulled out my camera to take a picture of it. Oddly enough it created interest from passers by. People would stop and look, wondering what it was that I was taking a picture of. Someone thought it might be some sort of living creature. You could hear people commenting to each other, and someone finally asked Greg what I was doing.He just replied, “She’s an artist, doing an artist thing.” Hmmmm? I just chuckled.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment