My first plan for any trip is my handwork. This time, I took along a set of hotpads for the train ride. I handstitched the binding on the back, and then I quilted their squares with red perle cotton. At first I felt a little shy being without a screen of some sort.
But one of the things I was pondering as I stitched was the value of looking at art in a museum. My husband and I had spent a fair amount of time at the National Gallery. I love art on my walls at home, where I can get cozy with it and it becomes part of my mental landscape and definition, but what is the value of looking at a painting for 5 seconds in a museum, and repeating this for hours?
Stereotypically, I think of viewing art as improving my mind, but now I am examing that assumption. I'd love for you to chime in and tell me what you think!
I think in order for me to extract meaning from viewing art, I need some history and artist biography to place the art in context before I can start gleaning inspiration for my life from its artistry. I mean, there are some pieces of art where I am so in awe that I make a resolution to try harder at my interests to see if there is some excellence in me, too. Then, more commonly for me, there are some pieces of art that give me new color palettes or clothing ideas. I am, at heart, a pragmatic person.
I think I need a capelet.
And those hotpads? - they're in the shop.