Old Guitarist by Pablo Picasso
People pass by me on the street, never daring eye contact. Occasionally, young lovers stop to twirl momentarily before they run along giggling. I close my eyes, gently hold the neck, and tenderly strum. I lean into the familiar curve as my fingers softly pluck the passionate song that reminds me of you, my love.
There's an old theater around here. It sat empty for probably about 20 years. A couple years ago a fellow bought and restored it. He has this vision of it being a venue not only for big name performers but being accessible to the local arts community and schools in order to further whatever artistic goals they may have. He's promised to set aside a certain number of dates each month to meet the local needs and he doesn't just use whatever dates no one else would want. I feel more comfortable having my kids go see concerts here than schlepping them off someplace that is an hour or two away and they've enjoyed that freedom as well. Tonight we are supposed to go to some benefit put on by local performers (provided we all feel healthy enough...I feel like I may be starting the downward spiral now that everyone else is on the upswing). So today I'm counting a guy who is doing what he can to nourish the arts in our area by making sure we have a decent venue.