It's been a while since I blogged. I just couldn't think of anything really meaningful to write. But today, I found something to blog about:
Inspiration
I've been on vacation this week in Washington D.C., and I've hit some art museums. The Renwick Museum contains more traditional art. On the other end of the spectrum is the Hirshhorn, which houses very modern art. It was much easier for me to understand the art in the Renwick. Many of the pieces were creative yet functional works, such as cabinets, glassware, or pottery. The choices made while creating these objects were much more clear to me, even in the more modern works housed on the second floor. The Hirshhorn was quite the opposite. Some of the art in that museum challenged my view of how I defined art. Many of the works could have been created by elementary children. Yet I found myself liking the shapes and colors. Other works had humor that I totally got, such as a work simply entitled "Legs". It was two floor to ceiling cylinders with feet attached to the bottom of them. After following my rather long-legged husband (one of his steps equals two to three of mine), I understood that art work all too clearly.
Regardless of the work, something inspired the artist to create it. Some thought, memory, current or past event, feeling, person, time, dream directed that work to its final product.
D.C. has been one of the most fascinating cities I've ever had the privilege of visiting. The monuments to the foundation of our country, our nations past and present, and those who have protected and served it have been inspirational for me. Mt. Vernon, the home of founding father George Washington, has left a special impression on me. I learned so much about him that I did not get from my history text books at school. Washington was a spymaster, creating a spy ring that provided information that significantly contributed to our victory in the Revolutionary War. He was a doting stepfather. He and Martha never had children together. She was a widow with children from her late husband, which Washington raised and loved as his own. Most importantly, he could have been king, emperor, or supreme ruler, but resigned his commission in the military, becoming a humble farmer once again until government and nation could figure out what sort of leader they needed. Believe me when I say the people would have unanimously and instantly made him king if he had not stepped away--the public adored him that much. He waited for the Presidency to be created, and then stepped into the role, leaving it after two terms so that someone else could continue to add his influence in the shaping of our nation.
As I pondered George Washington, chords, the sounds of majestic brass, and melodies started forming in my head. Nothing too concrete yet. But I find that if I let my mind gel on things long enough, something will stick and I will put it down.
When it comes to inspiration, it is a personal thing for the creator. What you have to do is be a willing vessel.
