Contrary to what may seem to be the case over the last week or so, this is not a photography blog. Instead, this is about art. Or more correctly, it’s about loving art, living art, finding the art within. Some time ago, we featured 100 Days of Art, but stopped after 36 days, primarily because it became difficult to justify the amount of work being put into the posts for the 3 or 4 people who stopped in.

But art is about life, and either you live an artful life, or it’s not worth living. Occasionally, life brings disharmony: these are the storms that tell us maybe our painting is off, the shot was blurred, or the song we were singing was off-key. It’s easy to throw down the brushes and say the pieces don’t fit and our art is crap.

But see, in my years here on Earth I’ve learned a simple lesson: the disharmonies are where the song becomes a concert. The blurry bits are the parts that feel like fantasy. Paintings were never meant to be by the numbers. If you want neat fits, buy yourself a set of Legos and be content with living in the shadows.

See, art is love, and if you love well, you’ll find all those little pieces that never seem to fit are the ones that make life worthwhile. It’s taken me over 50 years to find my song, and sometimes my partner is singing an entirely different song in a language I don’t understand. But that’s the glorious bit, my loves, I’m not supposed to understand; I’m supposed to let life sing. Art is life, and life is surprising and sloppy.

Let it sing, babies. Let it sing.