(Pic #1) Detail, wheel well, 1949 Dodge pickup, Ojai California. Photo by Josh Kaplan.
Take the time to look beyond the obvious.
One could argue that the classic lines of this 1949 Dodge pickup are a work of art in themselves (Pic #3) — but looking closer allows us to celebrate its life: twenty coats of contrasting paint, decades of willy-nilly scratches, and a funked-out patina you couldn’t create if you tried. To me, it’s pure beauty — unexpected layers of abstract art — and a reason to document every little unanticipated wound.
(Pic #2) Alternate view: Detail, wheel well, 1949 Dodge.
We were driving valium down the back roads of Ojai when we stumbled upon “Donald’s Mexican Food” truck — near a pen of friendly goats and a gorgeous Olive and Oak tree-lined street. It was quaint and quirky on its own, but when we got home and started playing with images in Adobe’s Lightroom, we saw the stunning “paintings” all over both rear wheel wells. That’s always my favorite kind of discovery: unexpected and bleeding with history. Boom.
(Pic #3) Rear view, Donald’s Mexican Food truck. Photo by Josh Kaplan.
(Pic #4) Wide shot, Donald’s 1949 Dodge Mexican Food truck. Photo by Josh Kaplan.
Beautiful!
Lonnie sees art where I see something that needs to be cleaned, polished, and rubbed until it is one solid color.
Why can’t I see beauty in the accidental abstract? Heck, why can’t I even “see” the abstract?
Like a zoom lens at a golf match, Lonnie is able to focus her eyes on a massive structure and behold its artistic elements.
I look at buildings and see a lack of fire egress.
She can cast her eyes downward and see nature breaking up a sidewalk in some sort of Picasso-esque geometric design.
I see a trip hazard.
Lonnie is always getting young kids involved in art projects. She loads up her car with paints, chalk, crayons, canvasses, paper, and all sorts of creative materials.
I assess the contents of her trunk and worry that the kids might choke on the crayons, get poisoned by the water colors, cut themselves with the scissors or God forbid start running around with any of this stuff in their hands and take their eyes out.
Meanwhile, Lonnie is embracing the sheer joy of creativity and the potential of their uninhibited creations.
I’m chanting silently, “please don’t get hurt.”
Nobody ever gets hurt. Everyone has fun. Creativity is merged with giggles and happiness.
And the art? Lonnie is always able to connect the neophytes with the Masters, while I connect the amount of laundry detergent needed to clean their painting attire.
Walk with her and she sees art in a broken window or dented trash can,
At a hospital she describes blood stained bandages as canvases rich with color.
Show her your scar…and she will find a corporate logo.
Just ask her husband Josh, who sports a Nike swoosh.
I used to think I wasn’t looking for art in the right places. My cubby at work was a three sided closet of cloth. No art there. Nothing abstract about gray cloth.
Didn’t even have an ink stain that could pass as a Rorschach test.
Was Rorschach even an artist?
Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE ART. I love going to museums,. I love flowers and landscapes. I love looking at the stars. Nature is the best artist of all time. And there are some pretty decent humans who have mastered the skill of mesmerizing me with their brush strokes, sculptures and tapestries. But this is art in a defined space.
I just can’t seem to find the accidental art like Lonnie can.
It must be a pretty cool way to go through life.
She can find beautiful lines in a wart.
I see a candidate for surgical precision.