First Showing

I got to see a wondrous sight today - my daughter's art hanging in a gallery. Wow.

As I wandered about, looking here and there, I must admit to being cautious. You never know what you will see in an art gallery: nude paintings that are graphic, lewd poses, twisted sculptures that reveal too many illicit medications, or just plain bad art. Sometimes I get surprised with something sweet, poignant, or just plain funny. Lately, though, not so much. It seems that the minds of so many have become so jaded and worn, they can only find things to criticize or debauch, instead of things to motivate and entrance. Today was no exception.

This was an art gallery at the college she attends. Much of the art was from students that had been in classes for several semesters. Frankly, just to be allowed to display there was an honor. When she applied (strongly encouraged by her teacher) we were totally thrilled. She is, after all, only in her second semester of photography class. We love her photography. She has a way of making something simple leap out of the photo and grab your heart. This was something simple: hands. Her grandmother's hands. Yet the message they offered was deep. There is such beauty revealed in these simple black and white photographs, it causes you to pause and wonder: what story are my hands telling? You'll have to decide for yourself what the story is when you see them - that's the beauty of art. You can participate. Which is why I am so leery when entering a gallery - I may not wish to participate in what is being offered. I am after all supposed to be sanctified, am I not? Anyway, to be encouraged to apply was amazing. To be chosen to be shown, and have a chance at an award: breathtaking.

So here I was, wandering around, secretly trying to see if anyone saw what I did hanging on the wall behind the reception desk. MY daughter's artwork. Next to what some might think was similar work, but it lacked the depth, precision, and story that hers offered. No competition. And while I didn't find that hers had won an award, I was no less touched and awed by the fact that it hung there. Her first showing. Splendid, I might add. As I walked away, I wondered how such art is rated. If by the heart, then hers had first place.