I am on day 8 of a 22-day trip to the Eastern Shore of Maryland. So far, we, which includes my husband, our dog Dennis, my mother, and her dog Lucy, have stayed in three different state parks in our tow-behind travel trailer. We also spent four days parked in my friend’s driveway in Southern Maryland while we explored the area and played a couple of shows. My 89-year-old mother was also blessed with a few restful nights of sleep on a luxurious king-sized bed in one of her guest rooms.
My friend has a beautiful home, filled with many treasures. However, what I will remember most about her home, was the art hanging on the wall of her light-filled living room. There was a portrait of Jerry Garcia of Grateful Dead fame, painted and signed by another rock icon of Jefferson Starship fame, artist Grace Slick. The portrait started as a numbered giclee (a print produced from fine art), but then my friend asked Grace to detail it, and it became a new one-of-a-kind. Another painting was a silhouette of a woman against the backdrop of a British flag, painted by another famous rock musician. There was also a signed abstract painting by artist Mickey Hart, a Grateful Dead percussionist, who used his rhythm skills to create a piece featuring brain waveforms. Every morning, I sat on the floor, drank my coffee, and admired these paintings, noticing new details every time.
On my morning walk yesterday, I came across a lending library in a small cabinet mounted to a post on the side of the road. As I opened the door and began thumbing through the books, a little spider scurried out and made a quick escape. It ran out the open door and jumped off the ledge, repelling safely down to the ground with the help of an invisible strand of silk. After it was well on its way, I noticed a brightly colored book cover. It was the Life of Pi by Yann Martel, which I am reading now. I immediately fell in love with the book when I read the author’s note.
“If we citizens do not support our artists, then we sacrifice our imagination on the altar of crude reality, and we end up believing in nothing and have worthless dreams.”
Art of all kinds inspires us to imagine, believe in something—to see things differently.
A couple of days ago, we were walking on Solomon’s Island and met a man who was blowing out the dust from what appeared to be a shop area. I asked if we could wander in, and he obliged with a friendly smile. He said, “We like to hang out here.” The small space was filled with all kinds of creative details from hand-crafted slab countertops to chandeliers. I loved everything about it! He also built two tiny homes that he rented out on Airbnb.
Infinite gifts of beauty surround us. Sometimes it’s in the pattern of the curtains, the color of the sky, the smell of breakfast cooking, or a song playing in the distance—little things that make our daily lives extra special.
We are changing the world whether we realize it or not. We change it by simply sharing our gifts and our lives.
That thing we do. That thing we love. It’s not only creating some big waves of change, but it’s also spreading a lot of love, joy, and filling us with gratitude for the privilege of living.
He’s holding a kaleidoscope point up to the light Watching diamonds and circles In shades of gold and purple Falling into each other Exploding with color A mosaic view of life He can’t believe his eyes It just keeps getting better With every turn it’s never the same There’s always something new From a different point of view. —Trisha Leone, Point of View
Speaking of artists, I’d like to introduce you to a couple of my friends in Tennessee.
