Art in Community among the Poor

"Armenian cemetery Chapel"

The Armenian chapel stands near the back of the main cemetery in our city. The majority of people here are Romanian Orthodox, so the Catholics and Armenian were given space in the back.

I try to get away to a quiet place with my watercolors set, some pens and pencils and a chunks of time. I usually start with finding a quiet place to sit. Then by journaling and drawing, soak up what the moment has to offer, not controlling the outcome, but rather trying to surrender to the experience of the present moment. It is something like getting down the obvious details of the experience, and gradually over the course of an hour of journaling and drawing themes begin to emerge, a deeper perception of the beauty is present, which I had not perceived before sitting down. Subtleties become conscious, and I am wooed and sometimes overcome by the experience. The above watercolors is a record of one of those experiences. I wrote in my journal and then some on the actual painting some lines which seemed key to the experience. Below are the rest of my working exegesis of the moment I noted in my journal.

Aesthetic experience is said to boil down to concentrated attention and a submission/ non control of the experience. This method especially using lots of blind contour drawing, is a door into aesthetic experience, because its nature is attentive looking and submission to the experience, rather than being heavy on controlling the outcome.

"wood doors, tin plated
bullet nails trailing up
and down the arch
cross tipped steel hinges
embrace massive wood
and rock them open and closed

a tiny piece of metal rod
holds the door open
cemented in windows
overgrown weeds clothe
its cracking structure
red brick still holding
up the chapel without
the dignity of the mortar coat
rounded arched doors
and painted arch coves
go up to the rocked off
steeple, a leaning vented
rusted tin top hat

in the back of the catholic
cemetery she waits in silence
listens to the letter sculptor
hammer out new names
sons and grandsons clearing the weeds
and trash from the graves
swooshing around her gray
shell with armfulls of branches

she is opened probably
by vandals or homeless
or dogs or just the wind
for the lost storm

there must have been
yellow and blue, orange
stained glass illuminating
the floor for last
goodbyes, funeral speeches
and 'Lord have mercy
on our soul's

she has stood probably
over a century saluting
the sun every morning
inviting rays through
her eastern window
above the open door"