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Home » Archives » October 2005 » Dwell In Fall Spell

[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" by Michael Corbin


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

Replies: 4 Comments

on Wednesday, November 9th, kyle allison said

nice job. i'm planning to come back here in the future. black girls on their mission: http://www.adobe.com , thins that excited you at 14 , substances that cure you

on Saturday, October 29th, Hyacinthe Baron said

Traditions march on during the transitions of the seasons. We are here at the Baron Conservancy, thinking we are alone in the desert except for the 100 year old Miner's Cabin we are in the process of restoring as the focal point of the many conceptual and actual earthworks and structures to be built on this dedicated site surrounded by a thousand pristine acres of sand and washes. The hissing sand next to the cans of soda as if air was escaping was followed by a rattle, the sidewinder rattlesnake warning us that this was his historical course and we are there by his permission. The Desert Kangaroo Rat so intent on weaving everything his agile hands can find is now among the missing from the cabin. The largest Black Widow Spider appeared when we unfolded some fabric. Overhead there is a Red Tailed Hawk being chased by two Ravens intent on destroying everything they can including baby Desert Turtles.
Fall is here in the desert, the winds are blowing at 20 miles an hour at least.

Change is the thing humans fear the most it has been discovered. With every change of season we must reorient ourselves, rethink our lives and prepare to survive. As artists we have been given a gift, of time, which waits for us like a patient lover to position ourselves so we can create within the context of never ending changes. We are the only species it seems capable of being original and creating out of desire.
With this gift no artist has a right to complain.

on Saturday, October 29th, Sylvia said

The light is different in the autumm. The absense of leaves changes the way the landscape is viewed. I always consider November the month of Naked Truth.Have you ever viewed the stars in the late Autumm?? sylvia

on Friday, October 28th, gabriella said

yesterday. i watched a woman gathering bunches of fallen leaves in her hands. She selected each one carefully, much like a poet selects words, phrases, analogies, metaphors. She appeared at ease and ageless. Clouds in the distance gathered like a frothy kerchief around the summit of Mount Garibaldi. Perfect day!