The Shoes Haunt Me

I remember one time, years ago, I viewed “modern” art at the Toronto Art Gallery. {where as I’d much prefer to look at the masters’ paintings for hours}
This exhibit was literally a pair of shoes and work boots of different sizes lined up in a straight line together. I think it was tallest to smallest if I remember correctly. I don’t remember the artist’s name.

I laughed at it. I critised it. “That’s not ART”, I commented. “This is stupid. Why would anyone do that and get recognized for it.”

Well years later – I’ve thought about that piece of art a few times each passing year.
I’ve thought about how I can relate to that piece of art,
how I’ve also had shoes and boots lined up in my own house much the same way,
how I can relate to the senses that this piece of art arouses in me:
feeling of tightness when I wear shoes, hardness of the boots protective layer, soft leather on the outside of the shoes, the sweaty dampness inside them and on my socks after a day’s wear, the odour I smell after the closed off closet is opened up,
and about how I could ‘CONNECT’ with this art exhibit!

I’ve since realized that this piece of art was well done. I could relate to it. I didn’t forget it. It made me hesitate to stop and look more at it the first time I saw it (even though I thought at the time that I didn’t like it). It made me THINK. ART DID IT’S JOB.