*sunset at the louvre.* from my recent book-research/inspirational trip to paris.*

last month, before we left for paris, a family hosted my artist-husband nathan and his work for a salon conversation entitled “art that lasts.” he spoke not just on the longevity of art made according to the master tradition of realism (he can trace his artist training from his mentor to his mentor and all the way back to da vinci! but really!), but of leaving a legacy. both through art that will live on collectors’ walls and be passed along to the next generations as heirloom pieces, and through passing that legacy of training on to his students as well.

yesterday, as i dropped in on a friend (to return her borrowed french-outlet-accommodating adapters), the topic came up again when i saw a poster of gaudi’s sagrada familia in her dining room.

*image of sagrada familia, barcelona, spain. (image not my own.)*

located in barcelona, spain, the sagrada familia is an architectural feat begun in the 1880’s. & that giant “drippy sandcastle” of a cathedral has been on my bucket list ever since i first saw an image of it in an art history class.

*again, image not mine. but those windows! the colours! le sob!!*

so while i have yet to journey to spain, i did just return from paris, france. (the home of a kabillion and four bucket-list sights and treasures and experiences). and paris has its own unfinished monument: the notre dame cathedral.

*a rare sunny moment from my trip to paris. and the best pic i could get of notre dame’s facade without the barricade construction wall or cranes visible along the side.*

started in the 1100s, notre dame took about 200 years to build. and because of the 2019 fire, it’s still under re-construction today. (with hopes of a 2024 re-opening. probably, like the rest of the magnificently historic city, under repair and refurbishment in time for the 2024 paris summer olympics.)

*current view of notre dame from behind; a photo i took two weeks ago. the flying buttresses are a lot less impressive covered in scaffolding. :(*

i promise i’m not here to give a TEDtalk on cathedral history and architecture. (although that was how middle and high school-me coped with history classes—a whole lot of cathedral and stained glass window reports and presentations!) and it’s also not because of returning to baby-country united states of america after visiting france. which pre-dates us by millennia. as do their buildings which stand in great (and artistic, well-designed) contrast* to the shoddy construction and temporary-ness of the ubiquitous apartment complexes that keep popping up all over my american city and its outlying suburban sprawl…

but because many of you responded to my instagram story yesterday.

here’s what i wrote:

“… right now i’m grateful for friends who encourage you to do the next right thing. even when it’s hard. & you’re scared it won’t be good enough. even if you may never see the end result of your efforts. because a good impact—good work—shall always have a greater reach than we can measure or see or even know about. and there is beauty & hope & peace in the unknowing.”**

so, yes, that instagram post was inspired by yesterday’s visit to my friend’s house. and from seeing that picture of sagrada familia.

because gaudi designed it never to be finished. like, ever. he wanted the work to continue. well past his own lifetime…

which made me think of the thousands of craftsman and artisans that also gave their lives (not just their careers, but their literal lives) to the construction and embellishment of notre dame de paris where i just was. going in, they knew their work would never be finished. & even if their sons, daughters, or apprentices continued their work, none of them would ever finish the building, either. nor would their grandkids. and yet? they just kept going.

it’s been said than a book isn’t finished until a reader reads it.

an author eventually has to turn in final page proofs. relinquishing their power over the words. the pages are printed and bound within the book’s cover and the finished product is shipped to bookstores and libraries around the world.

and yet: until an individual reader takes in every word—the story unfolding inside their head, page turn by page turn—until they reach the end, the book isn’t finished.

and is a book even finished then? or only once the story has imbedded itself in the reader’s psyche—causing them to see the world in a different way. a way that changes them. that changes how they interact with their environment. that changes how they interact with others. that changes how they talk to and treat and see themselves within their world.

it’s an infinite butterfly effect: a piece of artwork. a music track. an illustration. an essay.

you may never know how (or if) your creation will reach its intended audience when you share it. when it’s as finished as you can make it.

for example: a time-lapse painting video posted on the internet for my patreons this week.

the next day, a crayon box member texted me to let me know that when their kid saw that video, they pulled out their own watercolors and painted a furry monster, too. while simultaneously eating breakfast.

*challenge accepted: breakfast art-making success!*

art inspires more art.

our work is never done.

even if we set down the brush, the pencil, the guitar pick, the microphone: its impact shall endure.

inspiring others to continue the good work.

and while i returned from paris absolutely OverWHeLMed with everything i wanted to create? i’ve decided to remain hopeful. not that i’ll live to be 300 years old, allowing me maybe enough time to complete all the ideas blipping and bopping around in my head—but that while i am here, i’ll create what i’m supposed to.

enough to inspire others to continue the good work.

even if they never complete it, either.

and that’s hope: that good work is never done.

there’s always room for more of it.

~

*did you know that beneath the louvre are the remnants of the medieval fortress it once was? before it became a palace. before it housed marie antoinette or napoleon. before it became the world’s largest & most-visited art museum? yeah. neither did i until i took a wrong turn and descended a staircase where i could touch those walls for myself!

*somewhere beneath level -2 of the louvre. the still-there walls of the medieval fortress it once was.*

**and yes, if you’re wondering, i was able to return to my studio yesterday and make the art i was scared to start because i was afraid it wouldn’t be as good as it was in my head. i’m happy to report it’s coming along nicely. and crayon box members shall get to hold a piece of it somewhere near the end of the month. and i can’t wait to see how others (maybe, eventually, someday) finish it.

a sneak peek of a big (cuddly) project coming soon to the crayon box….! keep an eye on those mailboxes. ;)

next time on the blog:

an actor with a pencil/notebook/light-up keyboard.

or, art as an act of defiance in the inhuman robot face of AI.

or, on to book idea 3 (of 4 pending.) + MAC grant gratitude.

or, paris vs. the movies

obvs. i’ve got a lot of ideas. i’ll keep you posted.

unfinished art. that lasts.