Ah, behold the zen-like tranquility of a rock from a Zen garden on the island of Naoshima, Japan. I found this little garden while exploring the island known as “Art Island” because, well, it’s literally a museum and I’m the exploring kind. Yes, the island is filled with art, some of which, as you see here, is apparently left abandoned outside, waiting for the seagulls to fly off with it. Smart of this artist to incorporate a boulder into their composition, come to think of it.
Lucky enough to overnight in this wonderful artistic oasis, I was able to explore the island and find my inner Zen or at least, as you can see here, a concrete wall. Zen, wall, rock, stones, seagulls, it’s all part of the oasis that is Naoshima.
This is one of those scenes. The wall, the rock, the isolation of it all. You know, this is the kind of rock that makes you question your life choices while simultaneously wondering if you should have taken that art history class instead of majoring in “How to Avoid Adulting.” Are you supposed to turn your head before looking at this scene and then utter something profound like, “it has an inner core of softness juxtaposed with its counterbalance of confused socioeconomic backlash.” I shall leave the profound thoughts as an exercise for the reader.
Here we have this delightful stone, sitting proudly on a bed of gravel, flanked by a concrete wall that screams, “I’m here for a good time, not a long time.” It better hope the seawall, buried just offshore, can do its job to protect it from any stray tsunamis.
Let’s take a moment to appreciate the sheer audacity of this artwork. It’s like the artist looked at a perfectly good rock and thought, “You know what this needs? A concrete backdrop and a sprinkle of existential dread.” And voilà! We have a masterpiece that’s both modern and a little bit sarcastic, much like my attempts at adulting.
Now, let’s talk about texture. This rock has more character than I do on a Friday night. Its surface is a patchwork of earthy tones, each one telling a story of its own. I mean, who knew rocks could have such a rich backstory? “Once upon a time, I was a part of a majestic mountain, but then I got tired of the view and decided to roll away.” It is Japan, after all, a place where Ninjas free range and boulders serve as light compositional elements. If you don’t believe me, why, just ask the seagulls.
And those clouds! They’re like the dramatic friends who always show up uninvited, adding a touch of chaos to an otherwise serene setting. You can almost hear them whispering, “Look at us! We’re fluffy and fabulous, but we might rain on your parade at any moment. Hey, somebody’s gotta start that tsunami, it might as well be us!”
But let’s not forget the gravel. Oh, the gravel! It’s like the unsung hero of this landscape, quietly holding everything together while also reminding us that life can be a bit rough around the edges. It’s the perfect metaphor for adulthood, really. It’s smooth moments interspersed with the occasional sharp stone that makes you question your choices and it pokes at your feet while you scratch your head.
So, what’s the takeaway here? Maybe it’s that art doesn’t always have to be grand or complicated. Sometimes, it’s just a rock, a wall, and a sprinkle of clouds, reminding us to find beauty in the mundane. Or perhaps it’s a gentle nudge to embrace the chaos of life, because let’s face it, we’re all just trying to find our place in this gravelly landscape. Some days you get to be the boulder and some days? Hey, you’re the seagull.
Next time you find yourself staring at a rock, remember: it might just be the most profound thing you encounter all day. And if not, well, at least it’s not as confusing as trying to understand why your plants keep dying. Cheers to the rocks and the clouds, may they always inspire us to look a little deeper!
Until next time…
