Many moons ago, I used to travel with my father…once a year, to NYC. This somewhat unnerving adventure, started at five in morning…and, did not end until about one the following morning.
I say, unnerving, only because my father bears watching in the very quaint town of Canterbury, New Hampshire…where he resides.
Therefore, taking his somewhat over the top, sarcastic, elderly, rustic persona, into the heart of Manhattan; took patience, the ability to multi task and a touch of spirituality. In less poetic terms, it was similar to taking an unruly child and unleashing him or her…in a pen full of puppies with issues.
Though, the bus ride was often long and tiresome. And, my father, who has OCD, needed constant redirection, when it came to his need to monitor the bathroom,…I will never be able to replace what I learned on those trips.
Thus, we visited every art museum we could place our liberal art, feet at.
Never a fan of Picasso or Jackson Pollock…I relish in the idea that ‘art of any sort…can expand the mind.’
Lessons of the masters to enjoy, and to use my own imagination. And, though, I may not agree with the substance matter…I am encouraged to envision how it stirs me.
‘The aim of art, the aim of life can only be to increase the sum of freedom and responsibility to be found in everyone and the world. It cannot, under any circumstances, be to reduce or suppress that freedom, even temporarily…No great work has ever been based on hatred and contempt. On the contrary, there is not a single true work of art that has not in the end added to the inner freedom of each person who has known and loved it’