Jackson Free Press

A class in art appreciation constitutes the extent of my formal art education. Fortunately for me, I have never allowed my lack of art education deter me from availing myself of the opportunity to acquire art, to try to make it or to just stare at it as long as possible.

I have never attempted to evaluate any piece of art I've admired. I've always just assumed, perhaps naively, that the price of every piece I've ever proudly acquired was absolutely fair. In the realm of the art world, I've always been a lot like the skinny kid who was barred from the football field, but never missed the chance to live vicariously from the safety of the bleachers. A trip to New Orleans must include a day-long stroll on Royal Street, hopping from gallery to gallery, trying to memorize the names of local talent, marveling at their ability to pick up a paint brush and make a piece of blank canvas become something more, something better. I truly don't have a clue about discerning the different types of art. All I have to qualify myself as an appreciator of art is my own subjective love of beauty.

I would never dare to pretend to know what I am talking about in the presence of a curator or gallery owner. They would sniff me out and expose my pretense in a heartbeat. I content myself with walking into a gallery and politely asking questions about a painting or piece of sculpture that catches and holds my attention. My saving grace has always been the benevolent gallery owner who knows an unwashed admirer when he or she sees one, and kindly steps in to provide biographies of the artists whose works I admire, to discuss the use of the artists' chosen media and to offer their own interpretation of the art I gawk at. I always leave these galleries feeling grateful for the kindness of gallery owners.

Of course, I'm aware they get a payoff as well. Most gallery owners I've crossed paths with positively adore the opportunity to share their knowledge with anyone willing to listen and learn—even if that particular "anyone" only knows what she likes. I equate their eagerness to discuss art with me as a form of community service.

Merely knowing what I like and purchasing it whenever economically feasible has satisfied me for years. After all, I'm not planning to go back to school to major in fine art. I've always been able to indulge my love of art by hanging beautiful things on the wall. As long as the colors tie in, and I enjoy looking at it, why should it matter that I don't know the difference between acrylic and oil paint? Beauty is subjective, and art should be for art's sake, shouldn't it?

I am painfully aware that in the eyes of the learned art appreciator or artist, my previous sentence constitutes blasphemy. I may be taking my life in my hands by merely walking across the McDade's Market parking lot if one of these rightfully exasperated souls recognizes me from my picture in this publication. So I am going to attempt to redeem myself by admitting that, lately, I feel the weight of my blind interest in art. I love gazing at art, but know only enough about it to embarrass myself if I try to discuss it in more informed company. For a solid year, I haven't even allowed myself the pleasure of drifting through a museum or gallery. I long for a day to simply wander and contemplate, and maybe learn something new.

I recently purchased a membership from the Mississippi Museum of Art. The price was too ridiculous to turn down, and I can't wait to use it. I've visited our Jackson museum in the past, and I've enjoyed my visits. The museum featured Mississippi and regional artists on the occasions I visited, and the talent I saw in the work displayed impressed me.

We all have the desire to be moved by something we see and touch. I don't believe a lack of art knowledge is anything to be ashamed of. For myself, I view enhancing my knowledge of the art I admire as a simple product of my own evolution and the belief that it is never too late to learn something new.

For me, a willingness to learn, consider and appreciate is an art in its own right.

Casey Purvis is a Fondrenite who loves planting flowers and watching birds in her backyard. She is owned by Phoebe, a 9-year-old Lhasa apso. She works as a nurse in one of the local hospitals in her spare time.