Since I encountered Randy Kennedy’s article Name the Art that Calls Your Name, I have been thinking about other works of art that draw me to them in an inexplicable way. This time it isn’t one singular work, but rather a theme that I have discovered in my own taste over time.
Art that features snow is something I must inspect. I don’t know if it’s nostalgia for the winters of my childhood, or just the idea that “white” in any work of art is not depicted as white but a reflection of the colors of its own universe.
I grew up in Michigan but don’t particularly like living with winter– shoveling out your car, dealing with endless gray days, getting up in the dark, coming home from work in the dark–I live in the sunny south now for a reason. But there is a quiet, gentle beauty in freshly fallen snow that speaks to my heart.