This weekend, I spent some time on a boat on the Ashley River in Charleston with childhood friends. We laughed til my sides hurt. We talked about art. We talked about fire. It was an experience of brushing by the mystery too, for me. This is a photograph from the weekend. To me, it asks a question – which is my favorite kind of art.
“When I was a younger man, art was a lonely thing. No galleries, no collectors, no critics, no money. Yet, it was a golden age, for we all had nothing to lose and a vision to gain. Today it is not quite the same. It is a time of tons of verbiage, activity, consumption. Which condition is better for the world at large I shall not venture to discuss. But I do know, that many of those who are driven to this life are desperately searching for those pockets of silence where we can root and grow. We must all hope we find them.”
— Mark Rothko