Right Minded Online

I don’t consider myself the artsy type, but then my definition of what is and isn’t art in the first place is probably unique.

To start, let’s cover what is not art and why.

Submerging a Crucifix in a glass of urine is not art. That’s blasphemy. Art is simply the productive outcome of man’s desire to create, and anything that mocks the ultimate creator simply isn’t art.

I also have an issue with sculptures. Granted, that Michelangelo (who considered himself a sculptor foremost and not a painter) could take a block of marble and shape something as perfect as The David is an awesome accomplishment. But I can’t get around the Scriptural references to graven images:

Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. Exodus 20:4 (KJV)

Lest ye corrupt yourselves, and make you a graven image, the similitude of any figure, the likeness of male or female, the likeness of any beast that is on the earth, the likeness of any winged fowl that flieth in the air, the likeness of any thing that creepeth on the ground, the likeness of any fish that is in the waters beneath the earth: Deuteronomy 4:16-18 (KJV)

But thus shall ye deal with them; ye shall destroy their altars, and break down their images, and cut down their groves, and burn their graven images with fire. Deuteronomy 7:5 (KJV)

I have never been a huge fan of paintings, but there are still a few painters whose works are worthy of praise. Even after visiting the Louvre, the Sistine Chapel, and the Uffizi, among many, I still prefer Florence’s outdoor museum.

But despite my lukewarm appreciation for the canvas, Claude Monet’s Poppies is an example of top-shelf art.

And an honorable mention certainly goes to Pablo Picasso, a fine example of his less-weird work being Woman with Loaves:

I learned a great deal about art when I was stationed in Italy. Here’s what I wrote about my first trip to Florence, Italy back in March, 1989:

At first I felt a tinge of guilt for not wandering inside any of Florence’s cherished museums. After all, inside are stored her greatest treasures. Or so I thought. On a sunny day in Florence, why pass the time inside? My Florentine experience still in its infancy, I realized perhaps Florence’s greatest treasures do not necessarily lie inside her many museums. Often they are the vibrant landmarks, the brilliant architecture conceived during the greatest of artistic periods, the Renaissance. Indeed, he who claims that architecture is not a vital art is shamefully mistaken. The proof I have seen.

These historic quarters, several square kilometers, constitute what I regard as the “Florentine Museum.” Those vaguely orange tinted stone buildings have preserved the age of their creation for many lifetimes. They seem so appropriate here. The sea of orange rooftops visible from any vantage point simply delights the viewer. The cobblestone streets, the winding river, the churches, the narrow, curved alleys are all branches of this great museum. Indeed, the treasures stored so carefully inside her many museums are unforgettable, but to suggest that one must visit her museums in order to truly experience Florence is mistaken. The Florentine experience begins the moment one steps from the train station and into the center of her historic quarters.

Pastry shops are a sensation, even if one chooses not to partake of those divine creations. Even from the outside, looking at collections of pastries through windows, dressed up like fancy porcelain dolls, can be a delight. Creating these edibles is another form of art entertained by this society. It is another part of this great outdoor museum.

Here are a few exhibits of Florence’s “outdoor museum” from my own photograph collection:

Then there are other forms of art.

Music. I cannot sing or play a musical instrument, but music is probably my favorite form of art. There aren’t many musical forms that I don’t like, in fact. My tastes run the spectrum from bluegrass, to gospel, to western, to classic rock, to classical, Gregorian chants, big band, jazz, and I’m still leaving a genre or two out even now.

Literature. Writing is one of the few creative things I do well, and even then some would disagree with me on my talents. But there’s nothing like a well-written, well-told story that lifts the soul. Mastering the English language is no doubt a form of art on a par with paintings and music.

There’s also cinematography, which was so ably demonstrated as an art form by Mel Gibson in The Passion of the Christ.

And let’s not forget ceramics and pottery:

Vietri sul Mare, Italy

To finish off, you certainly can’t leave out photography and gardening as forms of art, either. Here’s the proof: