There’s some magic that traditional art, golden frames, gilded figures, and old glass-fronted paintings hold for me. And, an even deeper magic to colors like brick red, royal blue, and river green.

Perhaps what I’m really trying to say is maybe a part of the soul of the artist remains in their creations, and when we stand in front of art, two souls might talk to each other. Or, maybe, art acts as mirror and we briefly, ecstatically, glimpse our innermost Self. I don’t know.