The Art of Sharing.

You kid are an artist, categorically undefined, but an artist. Your work will soon be known and loved but first you must share it.

Through the experience of art we connect. Through the study of art we begin to discover the places where connection is both abundant and absent. On these blank walls of revealed disconnection there is a desperate search for art to hang. I think your work would fit beautifully, would you be willing to share it?

I don’t know why you spent the time working on this piece. I have no idea where some of the colors came from and for others I loved being next to you as you picked them out but I don’t know why you did. I don’t understand why you chose to leave that edge blank and why you didn’t finish the story on the canvas for me to experience even though you’ve lived the ending of that chapter. Does keeping this piece for yourself really make it feel more beautiful and special or do you feel it widening the disconnection between us too? Could sharing with me bring new meaning to the painting that for you has grown to be so familiar?

Even though I try to find the answer to these questions, only you know the truth to them.

Sometimes I catch myself wondering if it’s me. Maybe I haven’t studied art enough to understand. Maybe I’m not deserving of the symphony until I know all the instruments on their own. Maybe I’m simply not fit to handle your work. It could be the lack of me as I am now but it could also be the lack of me that is known by the one who holds the candle up to the canvas.

If you didn’t know I was deaf you may play me music I am unable to hear and while you hurt for my lack of reaction to the song you shared with me, I will hurt for being asked to use the hearing I was never gifted.

I believe art to be everything and everything to be art. But I can only experience and feel the art of everything that my individual self has the ability to access. Therefore it is my responsibility to find the experience of art in everything even if that is the art that lies in being told “not you” at the door of your museum.

Some art needs to be exclusive. If I own a farm it is for the right reason that at dusk I lock up and restrict the access the coyotes have to the chickens. The chickens are vulnerable and the coyotes cannot handle the temptation of a midnight snack. But you learn to restrict coyotes only after you witness the destruction they can do. Does that mean you should restrict all animals?

I preserve the chickens so the art of experience offered by chickens can live. However, in the morning if I wake to all my chickens sitting on eggs and instead of sharing them with those I love, I hoard them for myself, I have made a terrible mistake. By not sharing my eggs I bring upon myself the burden of excess eggs, starve my loved ones, and fail to discover that the most valuable part of eggs for me is their ability to stimulate connection over breakfast. 

I’ve spent many moments of freedom in my life trying to access museums that are not open to me and scramble hard boiled eggs in hopes of connecting over breakfast. However, I know from experience that the art I love and long for can only be created and shared with your heart's willingness to do so. 

I know you are an artist and I have loved the small pieces you’ve shared with me. Since the museum isn’t open yet, would you want to make an omelet with me while we wait?

Love Always,

Casey