Welcome, as the 2015 Art-Inspired Stories Project Continues!
I was excited when the
I requested a little flexibility as writing (like painting,
drawing, or any other creative endeavor) does not always come out neatly to
order. Twenty one works were photographed from the show, and narrowed down to twelve
stories and poems. I even allowed myself a little free-verse this time as it
seemed to fit some of the artwork best.
All the work submitted was excellent and merit-worthy. It’s
really worth stopping by the Harbor History Museum
to see the exhibition.
The choices reflected in the pieces I have written are not qualitative. I could not possibly organize and write stories for the entire show in less than a week. So here are some of the criteria I used in making choices when I viewed the show and photographed the artworks to develop.
The choices reflected in the pieces I have written are not qualitative. I could not possibly organize and write stories for the entire show in less than a week. So here are some of the criteria I used in making choices when I viewed the show and photographed the artworks to develop.
I did not choose:
- Works whose narrative is already strong - why restate something that is already clear?
- Works whose stories could not be contained to 100 words
I tried to strike a balance the general themes of the stories
(funny, sweet, contemplative, etc) and the various mediums and styles.
I am very pleased with these stories, and I hope that you
enjoy them as well.
**********
Pieces Created for
the Peninsula Art League
13th
Annual Open Show
Use of any of the photo images on this page without the express permission
of the individual artists is strictly prohibited
The Philosopher
 |
| Image copyright by the artist - Sheila Anderson |
Sheila Anderson – conte
I poured another tall one into the mug. It sat in his hand the same comfortable way
that he wore his clothes - like old friends.
“What do you think about most?” I asked.
He sipped slowly, relishing the taste before swallowing. His
head tilted, considering.
“I think of life, child.”
“Really?” I was surprised.
His chuckle had a gravely antiquity. “I’ve seen a lot of life – a whole lot, all
around.”
“You don’t think of death?”
“That’s always been there too. The wishful righteousness of
youth makes death cunning. It waits. It’s just one moment; while life is many.”
Kalaloch Creek Abstract
 |
| Image copyright by the artist - Robert Berg |
Robert Berg – Photography
The air was sea-salt crisp as I stood there, alone and enrapt
by line and motion. The progression repeated itself from the hand of an unseen
sculptor.
“This defines nature,” I thought, “This endless expansion of
form, this interweaving of plane and mass.”
Did they stand back, the artist of everlastingness, checking
the horizon, vanishing lines, and the angling light? A little adjustment here, a little molding
there, a shifting of pattern before the final chisel cut reverberated away?
Then the final moment of satisfaction before the hand washed over it all,
casually perhaps, to set it into eternal motion.
