And, as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, V, 1
It has been years since I set up my booth in sixty-degree weather with cool winds blowing. I felt a soothing calm as I built my “house” and designed an atelier under the roof. Now I sit and watch patrons casually drift from booth to booth, proud to play a part in this venue, Kennedale’s Brickworks Art in the Park Festival this weekend.
I have returned to Shakespeare with delight, brooding over the words posted above. Surrounded now by my art, I have this chance to look on a body of work that expresses the daily sights and sensations that inspire me to record in images and words. As I write this, a jazz band plays on the stage and the music mirrors what I feel this evening. The sun is low, shadows long, conversations gentle and soothing–all adding up to create a satisfying world.
Thanks for reading.