No Cure For Cancer

It's what people tend to say when they're justifying (or apologizing for) some project they've adopted.

"I know it's no cure for cancer, but ..."

Why do we have to justify something that we believe in? When did other people become judge? There are so many causes in this world ... so many personal pursuits that we can follow. We spend so much time judging people by their appearance, where they live or the type of vehicle they drive.

However, our personal convictions and the way in which we support them really speaks volumes about who we really are. Should I run in a marathon that benefits diabetes research? How about a silent auction for the homeless? Or, should I just stay home and read a book? Regardless of our pursuits, someone will have something to say about them ... positive or negative.

That pretty much describes what I've been experiencing since I've been writing about art. Some people think it's frivolous, some think I'm trying to be something that I'm not, but here's what really led me to this point ...

After many years of visiting art museums, galleries and fairs, one day I just decided to bring along my notepad. Quite frankly, I had been resisting this for years. In my career, I take notes all the time. "Do I really want to do this during my off-time?" I would often ask myself.

Back in my college days, whenever I visited an art gallery, I felt the need to take notes, but I never did. I wasn't an art scholar or critic, nor did I have money to buy anything. Why take notes? "Just go and enjoy," I would think. So I did.

Then, one day, I decided that art was just that important to me. It wasn't about trying to impress people or joining the ranks of established writers and artists. I just needed to gain my own understanding of art outside of an art history course or docent tour in a museum. I also wanted other people to realize that art, more often than not, is ABOUT THEM and the entire human experience and not just some high-cultured, big-money endeavor for a select few.

Since I've been writing about art, I've become even more passionate about collecting and more importantly, supporting living artists. It's a cause that I believe is worthy of some of my time on this planet. What truly convinced me is some of the artists with whom I communicate regularly. They have been very supportive of me in my quest to build a collection that will honor emerging artists and contemporary art in general. My artists are all over the world. Merv Slotnick, who does fantastic abstract works on paper lives in Maine. Jean Grenier, who does elegant portraits, resides in the Atlanta, Georgia area. Brian K. Elston, who paints edgy urban-inspired scenes, now lives in Chicago and Russian artist Alexander Vojik, whose work is a mixture of figurative and abstract, lives in Israel. This is just a few of them.

Art, artists and collecting definitely aren't cures for cancer. Not even on their best days. I do not apologize for that. However, I do think that if we embrace art, it will lead us in the right direction. People need to know that by supporting striving artists, they're encouraging vision, creativity and most importantly, human potential and the great push forward. Who are we? Why are we here? How can we get along? What more needs to be done? Art asks these questions and gets the dialogue going.

Again, I'm no art scholar or critic, but I really wish that I had begun taking notes on my art trips long before I actually did. I think that I would be even more in touch with art, myself and other people now.

Art is no cure for cancer, nor is it the answer for world peace, but it mirrors and addresses the human condition and that's a fantastic start in my book ... or perhaps I should say, notepad.