[Previous entry: "Why is the artist subjected to a capricious game of chance?"] [Next entry: "Cargo: The Middle Passage"]
10/28/2005: "Dwell In Fall Spell"
It's something you don't often hear people say until it hits.
"Fall is my favorite season!"
Somehow, it always seems to take us by surprise. It creeps up on us as we
continue to wear shorts and sandals on deceptively warm days that struggle
in vain to outlive summer's end. Although I was aware that it was
mid-October, the pleasant arrival of autumn didn't really awaken me until I
drove into work one day recently. Venturing down a narrow stretch of road
framed by oak trees, weeping willows and other towering monuments of nature,
I saw the colors. There are many great artists out there, but Mother Nature
tops them all! She slowly and delicately strokes the leaves in yellow,
orange, red and brown. A rhapsody of color clearly designed to make us
stop, or at least slow down and admire.
There's also something unusual about the sky. It's the bluest of blues.
It's the blue you want to be when people say you're in a blue mood. There
is no bluer blue. Clouds are in short supply when the sky is true blue. It
lifts the concept of blue minimalism to new heights!
And yes, THE SUN! 
William Mellor, "Seaside" There's something beautifully strange about the way the sun shines during
fall. It's so bright and precise as it floods everything, putting it all on
stage, especially the newborn color wash on the trees. How can you not
notice? Still lifes are everywhere.
Autumn always reminds me that nothing is more magical than change.
Something new always comes or goes as the wind blows. Oh, and the wind!
It's grand and gusty and bold and breezy. It's unapologetically unruly.
Who doesn't love a windy fall day? The wind makes a mess, but it all makes
sense. Change blows and brings creativity for those with open eyes. The
nip and chill in the air pinch you and remind you that you're alive. You're
crisp and alert. All eyes, ears and even pores are open. What a great
season to experience. Autumn is for artists and people who live
artistically. The falling leaves swirl and twirl, the sun bounces and
trounces, our shadows dance and prance, while insects flee and you're left
to live in the moment. A pest-free moment, finally ... except for those
times when the ground-crowding leaves crunch and rustle beneath the teeth of
my determined rake. Fall makes me believe that I too, am an artist. Or is
it a landscaper? 
Mari Lyons, "Central Park in Autumn" Even the brooks and creeks and rivers and lakes seem game. There's an
elegant flow in fall and everyone knows that it's destiny. There's no
stopping it or running from it. It's here already. It crept up on us.
Like a river flow, it will come and it will go. Why not wallow? It's time
to dwell in this autumn spell. But hurry, it won't be long until the leaves
are all gone.
Fall is my favorite season, too. (Did you guess?) It reminds me as an art
collector that experiences make the best collectibles. People do too. Just
live and be awake and on the move and automatically, you're a collector!
Yet with fall comes that frigid threat of winter. The bain of the
warmhearted. UGH! It's not my cup of tea.
Speaking of which, there's nothing like a cup of hot tea in fall. Drink up.
Winter is approaching.
MICHAEL CORBIN IS A WRITER AND AVID ART COLLECTOR
