Minutes to Memories

I spent the morning at the Walter Anderson Museum of Art in downtown Ocean Springs. Not too many small towns have their own art museum. Then again, not too many small towns claim a world-class artist as it's own, so I guess it stands to reason.

Gayle Petty-Johnson, the Executive Director, not only took a moment to pose for a few pictures (as above), but also told me a bit about the museum and its unique collections.

I watched a short video about the life of Walter Anderson, and it was extremely interesting. His eccentricity is legendary in Ocean Springs, and the video did nothing to dispel the legend. He really did (as my favorite story relates) once chain himself to a tree on Horn Island to experience firsthand the power of a hurricane.

But his eccentricity really isn't a laughing matter. He lived his life it seems in the classic struggle between his artistic genius and the conventional world, and it wasn't easy. He became isolated from his family, and when he wasn't out on Horn Island (where he'd spend weeks at a time), he lived alone in "The Cottage." He was a mystery to those closest to him.

But he was an unbelievable artist.

I can't believe I have lived in Ocean Springs for eight years, and only now have I taken the time to tour the museum. It has been my loss. I'm convinced that it is a "must-see" for anyone who travels to Ocean Springs, and I suspect I'll be pushing the idea on family & friends when they come to visit.

I'm not an aficionado of art by any stretch, but to the extent I can be moved, I was moved by Anderson's art. The video explained that he was heavily influenced during his rebellious art school days as a young man by learning of cave paintings, and I can see that vividly in his work. In fact, one of his favorite things to do was to paint on walls, including the multi-million dollar mural that encompasses the Ocean Springs Community Center as well as his private inner sanctum, "The Little Room" in his personal cottage.

Walter Anderson was anything but conventional. And true artists should be anything but conventional.

Leaving the museum, I'm suddenly convinced that I don't want to be conventional either.