Some days ago I was met outside my workplace by a lady that shall remain nameless. This lady does a lot of walking, and much of it past my house. Now I know there are those that have no clue about decor, art, or any of the finer things, and not because they can't afford it, or in this case haven't been exposed to some of the finest there is, but because they don't seem predisposed genetically, politically, or sexually (not sure what that means but I think it's played a part in my artisitic education being married to an artist).
To truly get a sense of the story from the beginning I have to tell you that we had lived in our house for more than two years without a front door. That space was ever so well occupied by a couple of sheets of plywood painted to match our clapboard. Well this year...late summer, early fallish we finally got our front entry. A massive piece of art that contains a front door surrounded by glass, a replica of the original as drawn into the presentation plans leading up to 1884 well executed by the incomparable Mike Paterson of
Paterson Woodworking located in Upper Amherst Cove. It took six of us to wiggle and waggle the thing into it's prepared opening. But now it's there for all to admire, and they have admired. Some folks have stopped their cars...one in the middle of the road to stare at this door with it's crowning balcony also well executed by our trusty carpenters Edward and Barry Sturge.
So back to the story and the comment that has made it's rounds to much chuckle in our house since that fateful day. This lady happened to catch me while walking from my car to the office and comment on the door, and the house in general. In the most well meaning way she issued this statement..."It's only old-fashioned, but it's some nice." Now I wasn't aware that old-fashioned was in it's very nature un-nice. I also have an issue with the phrase "old-fashioned" because it somehow regurgitates, with a full dose of bad taste, images of those gawdy couches from the seventies with their cheaply carved wood product and such that by the time I had taken note of them smelled of cigarette smoke and perspiration. Now I would have liked to have said all of this to this lady but I think her intentions were admirable and she was sweet enough to point out how nice the house looked...even if it was only "old-fashioned". I know educating people about this is damned near impossible... harder than rehabilitating the house with it's hefty contributions of blood, sweat, and tears, but who knows maybe someday I'll take a Crack-At-It.
To truly get a sense of the story from the beginning I have to tell you that we had lived in our house for more than two years without a front door. That space was ever so well occupied by a couple of sheets of plywood painted to match our clapboard. Well this year...late summer, early fallish we finally got our front entry. A massive piece of art that contains a front door surrounded by glass, a replica of the original as drawn into the presentation plans leading up to 1884 well executed by the incomparable Mike Paterson of Paterson Woodworking located in Upper Amherst Cove. It took six of us to wiggle and waggle the thing into it's prepared opening. But now it's there for all to admire, and they have admired. Some folks have stopped their cars...one in the middle of the road to stare at this door with it's crowning balcony also well executed by our trusty carpenters Edward and Barry Sturge.
That's good ... it reminds me of a comment that I heard a speaker make at a craft conference a couple years back. The speaker was talking about a craftperson's work and said that it was so good that some people have even suggested that it should actually be called Art.
ReplyDeleteShe even paused significantly as though the room full of craft people would be impressed that one of our own had managed to climb out of the muck of craft and achieve the level of artist.