This was a show over the weekend. No, I wasn’t there drawing people – it wasn’t an art show and I wasn’t invited. Of course, I didn’t know it existed either, so there you go… I just happened to be visiting Tillamook today when some old cars caught my eye. It turns out they were having an event called Old Iron.
It isn’t art… or is it? The loving care with which these machines were originally designed was an art to the designers. The restoration of these relics was an art for the persons who did it. Art is in the eye of the beholder, after all, and in a sense these are sculptures that teach us about the early 20th century. Maybe I should have been there.
The more I thought about it, the more I thought that I should have learned to build cars instead of draw people. The old cars, trucks and tractors last a lot longer and everyone understands them. But I didn’t think of things like that as art when I was younger. I guess I wasn’t smart enough. On the other hand, I like what I do so what am I agonizing over?
Well, I’m not agonizing, really. I just obsessively muse about everything I encounter. Always looking for a deeper meaning even when none exists. I still think I’m right about the old cars as art, though. But like everything else in art, it’s just an opinion.photo