For All To See
Just this week I stumbled upon an art gallery here in Houston, and it’s exclusive to just one artist. This gallery is little known, it’s not down in the museum district, it’s over off of West Little York. Of course all of this artist’s pieces were for sale.
So I got there, and my friend and I were the only guests, but the gallery was pretty full of employees – I counted about 7 doing different things. One gentleman was with us the entire time and gave us a guided tour.
It was different from your typical art gallery . It was mostly a warehouse. Picture a massive building about the size of Walmart. The entrance was obscure and unmarked. There were no velvet ropes, no canned lights. Only one little corner inside by the door was lit up with a few pieces of art actually displayed. The rest of the gallery/warehouse was dim and shadowy.
Every "canvas" was about 6’tall x 8’wide. Most all of the other “canvases” were grouped together stacked upright in racks. Each rack held between 6 to 9 canvases. All originals. There were about 20 racks in a row, with big isles in between. There were about 7 rows of these rows. All filled with this artists work. Then beyond that - the other half of the building was where they stored even more artwork all in huge two story steel shelves. We're talking hundreds and hundreds of original pieces of work.
All these acres of art work was just discovered in Italy – long covered up and forgotten until now. As I started walking row after row, slowly stopping to stare in awe, literally – I caught my mouth hanging open. Even in the dim shadows with an occasional shaft of light from a sky light overhead - I was overwhelmed. There are absolutely no words to describe the beauty of what I saw. I had never seen anything its equal from Paris to London or New York.
The artist’s use of color and patterns and movement was beyond brilliant. I could tell He liked to use the rich earth tones, of brown and red, gold, silver, creams and blacks, but occasionally he would use brilliant blue and translucent green and pink. Those pieces were really expensive.
OK so maybe it wasn’t a true are gallery. Because the name of this place was Arizona Tile and Granite. And the featured artist was God.
Upon reflection, wondering how unfair it was and why every single piece shouldn't be hung, lit up on display against black velvet over plush carpet, for all the world to witness the work of the Master, I realized that these AWESOME works were not his prized and favorite pieces. In the same way the Grand Canyon is not his favorite. The Pacific Ocean, or snow capped mountains.
As I stood there in reflection, I realized His favorite work was the man driving the fork lift.
And the man talking on the walkie talkie, and the one shuffling papers, leading us around, quite possibly oblivious to what they are truly selling. And it was me standing there in awe of the sheer mass amounts of His creativity and originality. And it’s you – sitting here reading this blog.
I don’t understand why, we’re his favorite when I look at His creation - besides the fact, that maybe out of all he has made, you and I have the potential to look the most like Him.
When you know the Living Artist, you can’t walk away from the Grand Canyon, or the Swiss alps, or the Pacific Ocean, or even a granite warehouse and not feel very small…… and yet cherished and special, and significant and important and original and one of a kind… all at the same time.
You are very loved my friends!
So I got there, and my friend and I were the only guests, but the gallery was pretty full of employees – I counted about 7 doing different things. One gentleman was with us the entire time and gave us a guided tour.
It was different from your typical art gallery . It was mostly a warehouse. Picture a massive building about the size of Walmart. The entrance was obscure and unmarked. There were no velvet ropes, no canned lights. Only one little corner inside by the door was lit up with a few pieces of art actually displayed. The rest of the gallery/warehouse was dim and shadowy.
Every "canvas" was about 6’tall x 8’wide. Most all of the other “canvases” were grouped together stacked upright in racks. Each rack held between 6 to 9 canvases. All originals. There were about 20 racks in a row, with big isles in between. There were about 7 rows of these rows. All filled with this artists work. Then beyond that - the other half of the building was where they stored even more artwork all in huge two story steel shelves. We're talking hundreds and hundreds of original pieces of work.
All these acres of art work was just discovered in Italy – long covered up and forgotten until now. As I started walking row after row, slowly stopping to stare in awe, literally – I caught my mouth hanging open. Even in the dim shadows with an occasional shaft of light from a sky light overhead - I was overwhelmed. There are absolutely no words to describe the beauty of what I saw. I had never seen anything its equal from Paris to London or New York.
The artist’s use of color and patterns and movement was beyond brilliant. I could tell He liked to use the rich earth tones, of brown and red, gold, silver, creams and blacks, but occasionally he would use brilliant blue and translucent green and pink. Those pieces were really expensive.
OK so maybe it wasn’t a true are gallery. Because the name of this place was Arizona Tile and Granite. And the featured artist was God.
Upon reflection, wondering how unfair it was and why every single piece shouldn't be hung, lit up on display against black velvet over plush carpet, for all the world to witness the work of the Master, I realized that these AWESOME works were not his prized and favorite pieces. In the same way the Grand Canyon is not his favorite. The Pacific Ocean, or snow capped mountains.
As I stood there in reflection, I realized His favorite work was the man driving the fork lift.
And the man talking on the walkie talkie, and the one shuffling papers, leading us around, quite possibly oblivious to what they are truly selling. And it was me standing there in awe of the sheer mass amounts of His creativity and originality. And it’s you – sitting here reading this blog.
I don’t understand why, we’re his favorite when I look at His creation - besides the fact, that maybe out of all he has made, you and I have the potential to look the most like Him.
When you know the Living Artist, you can’t walk away from the Grand Canyon, or the Swiss alps, or the Pacific Ocean, or even a granite warehouse and not feel very small…… and yet cherished and special, and significant and important and original and one of a kind… all at the same time.
You are very loved my friends!
posted by Shannon F at
8:57 PM
3 Comments:
awesome analogy! i'll have to use that one some time. thanks for sharing.
hey sweet gal!
it has been too long since i've checked your blog! the girls and i are still laughing about coleman's mad time skillz. hee hee!
sounds to me like you are having fun with all your activities and school at home must be under control these days, no??
maybe you can dress me up in CAbi stuff when i come visit in june(what does that stand for anyway??). asian women do not have hips, and that is a problem for this curvy woman!
miss you tons and tons! i cannot wait to hang with you back in cowboyland.
love chryl
hey friend, i just linked your blog to mine and reread your post. i didn't tell you the first time that i loved it. you are so full of life and you have a great eye for beauty, as anyone can see in your house AND your sassy clothes!
i have not forgotten that i owe you some moola; if you have paypal i can send it right over.
xoxo
chryl
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home