The Lone Ranger has been staring at me for two years. Not the real one, obviously. I’m talking about a drawing of him, done in colored marker by an eight-year-old named Ethan. It hangs above my desk like some kind of low-stakes moral compass. He’s got a mask, a cowboy hat, and a face that suggests he knows I’m ignoring my to-do list.
I love your perspective on art. It's hard to remember that it's supposed to be something quiet that just creeps up on you without you even realizing it at first. That it is about a feeling and an impression that stays with you. We tend to focus so much on what this means and that means and pick everything apart and it loses its magic. Thanks for sharing!
I love your perspective on art. It's hard to remember that it's supposed to be something quiet that just creeps up on you without you even realizing it at first. That it is about a feeling and an impression that stays with you. We tend to focus so much on what this means and that means and pick everything apart and it loses its magic. Thanks for sharing!