When I study art, reading through my glossy, full color collections of paintings, I am constantly confronted with my mortality.
It's almost like reading tombstones. Next to the slick reproductions are
Name
Born
Died
It's humbling, these works are vibrant, alive and the makers seemingly immortal.
But I know better.
I look up from the pages, into the next room where my son is playing, and I appreciate the moment. I am suddenly aware, of time, the present, and the passage of time.
Why I love art, Reason #1
Humbling...and sobering :-)
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