Art washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.

Textile art:Annie Bielecka

I’m not a visual artist

I cannot draw

I cannot experiment with colour

I have no flair

I don’t have a steady hand

I can’t transfer from the mind into something physical

I cannot be experimental

I’m not brave enough

I’m not an artist

I am an art appreciationist

I like what I like; there is no reason or rhyme behind it. It needs to make me feel something.

Sometimes I look at a piece of art, be it a painting, sculpture, arrangement or collage and it brings back memories of something. A Childs argument when I was 7 years old that brings back that same mixture of anger and fear I felt then. Or just something that encapsulates exactly how I felt for a particular 2 weeks one summer, years ago.

Whether it have been important or not, it stirs something in my brain, stirs and lifts, and if it wasn’t for that piece of art then the memory would have become fainter and hazy around the edges.

Some works of art stir up the memory of a feeling I don’t remember or even think I have had.
I don’t spend enough time with art, I don’t take the time to appreciate it enough. I used to wish I could create it. But now I’m happy enough just to admire it. So for art I am grateful.