march 12, 2016

posted in: art, photography | 0

“All complaints about life today will be ignored
unless they are submitted in the format of elegant haiku poetry.”
~ Dr. SunWolf

 

the awesome LL
the awesome LL

 

Lori-Lyn Hurley is one of the most eloquent speakers I know. From lunch conversation to contemplative dialogue, she is thoughtful and succinct in everything she says. We’ll add that to her laundry list of talents. I had the honor of being in a discussion with her today at ArtsPlace about art as prayer. It was part of LexArts’ Arts Weekend. At the time we signed up we didn’t realize the city’s plan to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day (the parade started the same time we did), or that Comic Con was in the convention center, or that Disney On Ice was at Rupp Arena. And there was a lot going on inside ArtsPlace, too. The Chamber Choir was in just before us. We could hear children singing on another floor. Some of the most elegant Latina dancers stomping to Mariachi music helped end our day. It was a fun, festive atmosphere in downtown Lexington. There was one unusual thing that happened though. There was a man, another artist from the looks of it, going about his business as if we weren’t there. Through our entire conversation he continued to set up his artwork and lights and projectors and God knows what else. I’m still scratching my head over it. (I should write that as a haiku I suppose) While I was completely distracted by the man-with-no-name Lori-Lyn remained poised, as if we were the only people in existence. Yet another talent I wish I had. I’d start talking, see the man-with-no-name drag in something else, and suddenly fifteen minutes had passed. Lori-Lyn was awfully sweet to let me yammer on. But she did speak, and that’s what I wanted out of this deal. I wanted people to hear her talk about her work and be inspired like I had been inspired when she gave a similar talk in Ewing back in the fall. I have never been with her that I didn’t learn something or become inspired or feel as if I was in the presence of someone with more passion in her pinky than a whole town of people put together. I hope our small audience was able to overlook the interloper because, if they were, then hearing Lori-Lyn speak was worth every roadblock they surely went through to get there. It was a fantastic day made all the more memorable by the man-with-no-name and the wonderful friends, old and new, who came out to support art.

 

the colors that matter
the colors that matter

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