Art--Inside & Out

Have you ever walked into a piece of art?

I have and it was an amazing experience.

Earlier this week I went to a new art exhibit on campus. One of the "pieces" entitled Room to Breathe was a large area of the gallery surrounded by ceiling-to-floor walls of bubble wrap with red and white carpet on the floor. The room was brightly lit and carpet had stylized design that seemed to be text.

Walking into the area felt strange at first. To be walking into the art. But the walls of clear plastic with pockets of air encased me and I felt my body relax. It was comforting.

For several days I thought about the experience. To walk into art. To be a part of it. Not on the outside looking at it but to go inside and become a part of it. Wow!

Today I went back. This time I sat down on the carpet and let the art absorb me. Let myself fuse with the piece. Contemplated how my taste in art has changed.

No longer do I need the ridged conventionality of two-dimensional art that is admired from the outside. Instead I crave the unpredictability of three-dimensional pieces that draw me into them--figuratively or literally. That require not intellectual understanding but instinctual awareness. Art that I often walk away from with my mind puzzled but my soul refreshed.

I plan to go back several times over the next few weeks that this exhibit is up and immerse myself in that bubble-wrapped cocoon of art.

Art in Emptiness

Last night I went to the Modern Art Museum for its monthly First Friday event. As I walked around the museum, it wasn't the stimulating artwork that resonated the most with me. It wasn't the melodious jazz trio. It wasn't the pleasant company of the friend who was with me. Although all of those were enjoyable and meaningful.

No, what resonated the most with me were the open, empty spaces.

The empty spaces of ...
...the smooth walls extending between the art.
...the warm wooden floors expanding between the walls.
...the open benches waiting for someone to sit on them.
...the expansive galleries soaring up to the high, high ceilings.

In those empty spaces, I found rest...
...from the busy week,
...rushing to do one thing than another,
...racing from one day to the next to start the frantic cycle again.

In those empty spaces, I found peace...
...from over stimulation,
...busyness,
...being pulled in many directions.

In those empty spaces, in that seemingly nothingness, I found art.

Art...

...calming my mind,

...relaxing my body,

...restoring my soul.