Perspectives

Originally written by Wren Pearson in the print version of The Village: Magazine of the Arts

My husband and I rode our bicycles along the paths of Robinson Preserve, sharing the road with legions of fiddler crabs and a pair of roseate spoonbills as a storm front approached from across the bay whipping the sea grapes and palm leaves into a clattering fury.

Great egrets and ibis were startlingly white figures making their way across the deepening violet of the clouds to the shelter of low trees and bushes. It was a dramatic afternoon of nature’s beauty that left me thinking about the influence of perspective in the making of art. Why does a pink bird in blue water against green trees make us stop and observe? Why do some people see and stop, while others continue, or don’t see at all? From where does our perspective spring?

Many years ago, I was invited to spend a day with a group of mentally challenged artists who were creating works for an upcoming exhibit at a city library. I met painters, weavers, sculptors and collage artists but the person whose work affected me the most was David, David, timeless figure, neither young nor old. He did not speak and he looked at you without acknowledging your presence. He seemed either completely empty or so full that there was nothing that could be added to him. Eating and putting his clothes on were the basis of his outward involvement with the world. Thankfully, at some point in his life someone had given him a piece of paper and a marker.

Continued on TheVillageMagazine.net