Leaving a Legacy: Life After Art

On a trip to the art museum a little over a year ago, I stumbled onto an exhibit of famous Indiana fashion designers: “An American Legacy: Norell, Blass, Halston & Sprouse.”  Having heard of at least two of the names, I decided to check it out. The dramatically lit room full of swankily dressed mannequins […] Read more

The Poet’s Son: Ai Weiwei

Only a poet’s son would take wood and tea and mangled steel and send a message to the world. It was that poet’s son who stood in front of the White House and Tiananmen Square and raised a finger of offense and then photographed himself and called it art. The poet’s son, he’s the one […] Read more

Art We Leave Behind

The art form was new to me: small sculptures created from pieces of glass. But the chance to be creative, to use my hands to mold what normally lives only in my imagination, was a draw all its own. If there was art to be made, I wanted to be part of it. Joining others […] Read more

Art, Fashion, and Life Transitions

Horror, repulsion, bafflement. These were strange emotions for me in a place that normally signified beauty and order and peace. I had walked right into the same art museum I had visited a hundred times. Usually, I would go up the stairs one level, pass by the front desk, and head directly into the European […] Read more

The Occasional Painter

Seeing the tubes and bottles of paint brought a smile to my face. I was packing a bag to take to a friend’s house for the day, and among the things I was bringing were the paints, a jar filled with brushes of all sizes, and a couple of fresh white canvases. Sarah, an artist […] Read more

There and Back Again: Food

My mouth started watering as I walked around the “Big Food” showing at the Watts Fine Art Gallery in Zionsville. I had received an announcement about the paintings of giant pieces of pie and enormous bowls of Fruit Loops, and the pictures on the gallery website had been intriguing. But I never imagined a painting […] Read more

Looking at Each Other

There’s a light breeze, the sun is dancing with the clouds, the water from the fountains is soft, steady. I hear the tat, tat, tat of the percussion, and the bom, bom, bom of the bass even before I see the instruments. Sounds forming a loom, a frame for the jazz we have come to […] Read more