It might not seem like it, but I’m a serious art fan. Aside from the books on my shelves, the only inanimate objects I care about are my collection. Though I love my family and friends oh-so-very-much, I would be hard-pressed if in an emergency, I had to choose between my photo albums and my art…because I am pretty sure my art would win.
Does that come off as heartless?
Every single piece captures periods (and people) in my life that I never want to forget. For example, I have a giant map of Middle Earth that my first love created for me, an intricate and absolutely amazing amalgam of maps researched from different editions of Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. Not only does the map embody my favorite literary adventure, it also brings back detailed memories of a most loving, painful, illuminating and exploratory 5-year stretch of my life.
A three-piece collection of bright, Murano glass straight from Italy were gifts from one of my dearest friends back in the Bay Area, and though we aren’t close anymore, whenever I look at the shimmering golden fish or orange dolphin, the years I spent with him come flooding back. A thrift-store find of a knight poised before a castle in the mists done in watercolor symbolizes my freedom and sense of adventure, as it hung in my first (worthwhile) apartment after college and a small print of Van Gogh’s “L’église d’Auvers-sur-Oise” is a constant reminder of a truly unforgettable 7-day vacation in Paris.
What this all boils down to is a rational, fully verifiable excuse (to myself), so that I might purchase this year’s Jazz Fest poster. In all likelihood, I will not be attending the massive festival because a) I am too poor to afford the tickets and b) I just can’t party like I used to. BUT! That does not change the fact that I would LOVE to own Aural History: Preservation Hall & The Preservation Hall Jazz Band by one of my favorite New Orleans artists, Terrance Osborne. I mean, don’t you want it? Osborne is so incredibly awesome to me because he sees New Orleans awfully close to the way I see it in my mind’s eye…colorful, alive, vibrant, joyous, soulful. His paintings automatically paste a huge stupid grin across my face, regardless of my mindset at the moment of viewing. Ultimately, I aspire to own an original painting by Mr. Osborne, but until then a print will definitely do.