The Patina of Age

 

This is a photograph of the sink in my studio from my recent residency at the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. As you can see, the paint on my palette is new, but the sink was already stained a deep blue upon my arrival. I was amazed by the patina of age, and more than this, I was humbled by the sense of history. There have been many, many artists who have come before me. And the sink and its layers of color reflects this undeniable fact.

It's true that sometimes we want things to be shiny and brand new. We want a clean slate. A new beginning. For me, having these ghostly stains gave me the sense of being a part of something bigger. I could feel myself--a fledgling visual artist--being boosted and buoyed by the past residents in Studio VA 2. And so, I am grateful--to the ghosts and to VCCA for supporting artists, but also for resisting the urge to scrub this sink and thereby obliterate the past.

Is there a place in your life where you might find comfort and inspiration by leaning on those who have gone before you? This place of comfort might be as simple as a park bench in your town where millions have found rest. Or it might be a tree along your drive that you think of as "your tree" only to find that there are others who think of that tree as their own. Perhaps it's the threadbare thrift-store jacket that calls out to you. In fact, even a person with an obvious patina of age can offer you inspiration.

Creative friends--your assignment for this week is to rejoice in the unscrubbed sink, the gnarled oak tree, the old face in a parking lot or even the one in the mirror. And then, celebrate the powers that come with the patina of age. Allow yourself to be wrapped and buoyed by the unseen threads of history and the continuum of time and space.

And have fun.

Love,

Jamie