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I like our art gallery. I’m probably biased, since it provides a fairly reliable meeting place for other artists and writers seeking those with like interests.

I have enjoyed art galleries in less familiar settings. Charleston has some lovely galleries. The City’s roads were narrow, and it felt like it had too much of a tourist vibe. But I could get lost in the paintings.

Ironically, Savanah, with broader streets and roomier coffee shops, didn’t impress me as far as art galleries go (but then, I only visited a couple). I remember one in particular that displayed student art. It might have impressed me more if I didn’t have the distinct impression that the students were trying to impress their teachers. No matter how clever an art piece is supposed to be, if it isn’t striking, it’s hard to care very much. It doesn’t always have to be beautiful. It can be the sublime span of a grey range of mountains, with cavernous depths, or the roar of ocean surf on the jagged shore. But every-day beautiful scenes are good to, like a flower garden or family. Those always catch the viewer, no matter how ordinary, when done well.

Our art gallery has a number of beautiful pieces. Some also seem rather clever. Few would guess anyone could make a work of art out of a gourd, but there are some rather impressive examples on display, especially the one that looks like a beehive. The pottery is also very charming. It’s hard to imagine how beautiful a simple drinking cup can be. Though I confess, I still haven’t drunk out of the mug I bought. I’m a little too afraid I’ll break it. Not that I expect that it’s any more delicate than the rest of my dishes, but when it’s something that beautiful, it cuts deeper. I’ll have to save it for the right occasion.