Recently, we were fortunate to take a girls trip to San Francisco. Each of us was responsible for planning one day of the adventure and as a result, each day held its own unique itinerary and feel. We toured the city, drove along the coast, visited the redwoods, and ventured to the wine country. A local guide that we met along the way advised us to stop at Cornerstone Gardens which is a bit of an unknown treasure in the wine country. Cornerstone is an “ever-changing series of walk-through gardens” created as an inspiration for people interested in garden design and art. But I felt like it was something more – it was an exploration of the spirit expressed by various garden designs.
We spent an hour or more walking among the various gardens. Artists had created them each with a different theme and symbolic intent. One woman created a garden in honor of the brother she had lost - where “his whispers could be heard among the leaves”. But my favorite was the Wishing Garden. Each visitor to this garden was encouraged to take a length of ribbon and write a wish on it, and to then hang it on a wishing tree. The artist asked for wishes of “hopes for what is possible” which viewed together will “represent dreams of an entire community.” The tree was filled with wishes that others had left behind – some of them silly and fun, and some of them heartbreaking. We each took our turn. I don’t know what my mom and sisters wrote. I wished that “Days like today could be in slow motion so I could really savor every moment.” I can’t put my finger on it exactly but this garden was both therapy and art. Therapy for all those who entered and shared their wishes, and art because of the connection made with the person who created the vision.
Many of you who know me well know that I enjoy photography and have participated in a personal project over the past six years of taking (at least) one photo every day. I’ve often thought of this more as a visual diary as opposed to art. Through those last days with Mike and the days that followed of planning the memorial, I continued my project but often times struggled with wondering “what is the point?” and wondering how I could continue my project on those days when it seemed pretty meaningless and how to do so in a way that was respectful. There were days when I certainly considered not taking a photo. However, I’ve taken a look back at some of the photos that I took over the last couple weeks and find that, for me, photography was my therapy. My visual diary became visual prayer - it forced me each day to truly be in the moment for at least one moment of that day, forced me to be inside myself and to allow myself a moment of peace. I needed those moments of solitude in order to pay honor to what was happening that day. Perhaps some of my photos may resonate with someone else who was there or someone else who has experienced the same emotions, and in that way, they become therapy for us both and perhaps even elevate themselves to becoming “art”.
We experience art and therapy acting together in so many ways every day and each person has their own expression whether it be quilting, photography, music, writing, animals, knitting, wood-working, whatever you are drawn to. I hope that you have art in your life and I hope that your art brings you peace to enjoy the moment.
