For Art’s Sake

I don’t know what that means, really: art for art’s sake.

But then again, upon rounding the bend on the Eno River walk near Weaver Market in Hillsboro, the naive walker is stunned to find this massive five-tower twig edifice that has appeared like mushrooms on a wet lawn.

But why? Because art is what we do. What we must do.  It is somehow subsumed in the “sapiens” part of our species name, the Latin I take to mean not only wise but creative. Man: The paragon of animals indeed.

I know it made me happy to see it. It enriched my day. It elevated the common branch and bough to something simultaneously substantial and insubstantial, a thing unnecessary and whimsical. So thanks to the Stickworker for the gift.

I like this particular aspect of humanity at least, the bad taste for our kind still bitter in my mouth after reading “the news” this morning. Or any morning. Man: the only animal who blushes. Or needs to.