Feb. 17, 2026: My mother, also an artist (www.darleinsteinart.com), has counseled me wisely: “Art is in the eyes of the beholder,” she states, cautioning me against volunteering, too quickly, my understanding of my own art. This has led to some fascinating conversations. One purchaser of art pointed to the piece she had just acquired and asked me what meaning the drawing held for me. I was about to answer and caught myself. I remembered Mom’s advice.
“I’m happy to tell you, but, first, I would love to know what it means to you?” I’m so glad I took that path. She went on to eloquently describe the tension, in her ground-breaking work for human rights, between reaching for important goals, even if seemingly out of reach, and keeping herself grounded. The art she purchased would hang in her office and remind her, every day, of the importance of both.
We never did get around to talking about the meaning of the art piece for me, but that was fine. The art inspired her and her inspiration, in turn, gave back to me a delightful sense of connection to her aspirations and the efforts that would follow. That person-to-person connection feels like a particularly lovely aspect, if not an essential component, of being human in a world that is increasingly remote, online, and disconnected.
Another purchaser of art said that the drawing of a swimmer reminded her of her sister and that it captured a particularly fun time in their lives. One woman, the head of an athletic organization, purchased an artwork she felt would be an inspiration for the athletes she coaches. I enthusiastically welcome photos of “where the art lands,” as it is so interesting to see how people feature the art in their lives. Some have sent me reports of the delighted recipients of a gift of an art piece, something the purchaser knew would have special meaning for them (e.g. a grandchild who swims with their high school swim team).
Several people who bought card sets have sent me pictures of the card they sent to someone along with the gist of a poignant message that the art carried to someone about whom they cared deeply. One mother/daughter duo had each bought a set of cards and, months later, each had spontaneously sent a different card in the same set to the other for Mother’s Day.
In my immediate community in Northampton, we have neighborhood outdoor potlucks when the weather is good and we have an indoor “Sunday Supper Club” year round. For the Sunday Supper Club, different neighbors are grouped together for a potluck at one family’s home on the first Sunday evening of the month. We break bread together and get to know one another – something that can be rare these days, even in seemingly cozy neighborhoods.
During one summer potluck, I was in a small group conversation when one woman exclaimed, “Oh, you’re the artist – I bought a piece of your art at the YMCA!” It was fun to be recognized for art, as opposed to my other two more serious disciplines. And that led to a delightful conversation about art in general and what meaning art brings to our lives.
At the end of one of the Sunday Supper Club dinners, while putting on my winter boots for the walk back home, the host, admiring some of the images on my website, wondered if she could come over to see my “studio,” sometime. I laughed and replied, “Please come to my home and have tea with me in my living room – as that is where my “studio” is!” We both laughed. We will do just that.
I have several careers that run as parallel rivers in my life – a deep commitment to the legal profession (particularly adoption work and civil rights) and a regular practice as a psychotherapist. I feel honored to be able to help others name and realize their dreams. And…when I can make time to completely let words go quiet, I enjoy floating fully in the delight of drawing the arch of the back, turning the angle, finding the toe curl and springing the jete with just a pencil in my hand. What has been the surprise, for me, is that, later, it comes full circle – there is the unexpected pleasure that extends beyond the solo making of art — the conversations, the meaning making (different and shared), the exchange itself (shall the art and funds travel by hand, online or be couriered by Hogwarts’ owl) and laughter about this and that along the way.
No AI here. This is communication between humans about grace, aspiration, and the flow of the human body arcing through the air. That spark is caught and transforms in the hearts of others – becomes personal on their walls and paired with messages that they, in turn pass on to others, transforming to energy that gives, to the viewer, a lift to their day and may give rise to emotions solely explained in a gesture. My family and I laugh and talk as we mount art shows, I have made new friends, deepened connections with neighbors, and have been told by many that the spirit in my art has traveled to others’ hearts. And I am very grateful to be a part of that flow. Marla Allisan JD, LICSW