An Ode to the Arts

For as long as I can remember, I've been a tremendous fan of the arts.  I recall being different from my peers when I was younger. They liked recess while I preferred instrumental music and art which, unfortunately, only met a few times a week. There was something inherent in them which can't be matched.

Yes, recess was fantastic for blowing off displaced energy that all children that age share, but those art and music classes did something different. There was no need to fear stray kickballs from the kid who was already through his first year of puberty. There were no sprained ankles, and no bruised knees. It was, instead, the pure joy of creating something completely new and different for yourself.

That love and that desire to create and share has persisted through the years and has become a fundamental part of me as a human being.

At first glance, Towson, this hub just north of the city line which we all call home, may not appear as a place bursting at the seams with artistic potential. It lacks some of that "creative chaos" which some feel is necessary for true expression. However, if you look closely, you may find culture crossing the street at the Towson Circle, or creativity enjoying a milkshake at the Towson Diner. It's there; you just have to keep your eyes open.

On Monday night while driving home through Stoneleigh, one of those sights crossed my eye (the one that wasn't watching the road, of course). It was around 9 p.m., so the only lights were street lamps spaced few and far between and the homey glow from the surrounding houses.

There were two folks sitting on the sidewalk. They couldn't have been more than 20 years old. Set up around them were two fairly large canvases and a set of what I can only assume were paints or charcoals or something of that nature. I was not able to see what it was they were trying to capture but their flashlights remained fixed on some far-off point.

Having dabbled in visual arts in college, I know that lighting is crucial to a composition. What was fascinating was how crucial not having lighting seemed to be for them. They clearly had narrowed down their field of view to nothing more than what the flashlights captured, using the darkness as a complement.

It seemed to me that this exercise was part of what I see culturally and artistically around me. It's simple to find inspiration when looking through a narrow glass as long as you understand that those things around it are just as important and just as much there.

This column is a new endeavor for me but I hope that through it, those who may not otherwise see some of the creative proclivities of this fair town might start to appreciate what it has to offer.