One of the saddest things about art is that I’ve found there are a great number of people who believe it is out of their reach. That it hangs in a museum, miles away from them and simply isn’t or can’t be a part of everyday life. Art IS within reach, and if it is not for you, then it should be. Granted, things have come a long way in regard to accessibility, but sometimes what is keeping the art from our lives are the roadblocks we set up in our own minds. Sometimes apprehension or fear that we may not understand can keep us away. Art is not simply for the affluent or the educated. Art is for us, right now.

I would rather have someone see my work and want to pick it up, to hold it in their hands, to feel the cool weight of it, than to simply want to LOOK at it from behind a rope or under glass.

I know, better than most that our senses are funny old things and they often work (or don’t work) in curious ways. When I describe it to people, they laugh it off or don’t understand, but any fellow synesthetes out there will testify- things are a bit different for us. To one, numbers may be different colors, and to another textures may be associated with certain tastes or sounds. I won’t speculate as to whether or not this means our senses are fighting against each other or cooperating, but any way you slice it, our senses are intertwined, sometimes even fused. That’s why it’s not surprising at all that many synesthetes are drawn to creating art- they need several dimensions, colors and textures to depict how synesthesia feels. Or sounds. Or tastes.

But what a beautiful moment it is when something touches you, moves you on many different levels at once! We, as a society, tend to want to compartmentalize things, keep everything apart and not touching and tidy. But the deepest experiences we have are a messy rush of feeling, sight, sound, taste, colors, numbers, words, light and depth. If you think, right now, of a fond memory, or a sad one, I’m willing to bet that there are sounds, smells, and feelings in addition to what simply happened or what you saw.

Its funny and bittersweet, I am remembering when my children were small, they would ask me with all the charm and manners they could muster, if they could “see” something ( And to be honest, I can’t recall what it was but I’m sure it was fragile and expensive or rare), and when I said yes, they reached their little hands out for it…….I gently reminded them time and again that we don’t see with our hands…and in my deep ache to reach people on many levels with my work, I know now that we do.