I recently returned from vacation and happened to be walking by the Sharon Arts Center Downtown Galleries’ window. I was arrested by what I saw. Was it a person? No, two people. A pair of shoes. One glance was not enough; it was too much to take in and just enough to wake me.

That’s the goal of art, to take us out of ourselves and out of everyday life; it takes us to a place where anything is possible. It changes you and nothing is ever the same. That’s how it was looking in the gallery window.

Since then, I’d been anxious to visit the show — something I was remiss in doing before my holiday abroad. As much fun as opening receptions can be, there’s something about seeing a new exhibit all by myself that I find hard to resist.

Taking in new artwork in silence puts me in a position of reverence. It wouldn’t be too much to say that artists are my gods and the messages in their works are what I strive to live by — it’s been that way as long as I can remember. So you will understand why my heart swelled as I prepared to formally visit the “Collage” exhibit for the first time, camera in hand.

Through the lens of a camera, I studied the gallery window artwork that had previously caught my eye, without reading the title of the work. To me, that’s cheating. I leave that for last, along with soliciting other people’s reactions to the work.

Was it moving? I couldn’t tell. The sweeping motion of the artist’s brush had left its mark, imparting a sense of motion. “It’s a man,” I thought until looking at the three-dimensional art from another angle. “It’s a woman.” The pendulum was swinging in my head. “What is it?” I liked the feeling; you could get drunk from it.

I finally read the description of the work on the wall: “Hope Chest,” mixed media, Ted Arnold. I later learned from Gallery Director Camelia Sousa that Arnold lives in Portland, Maine, and is represented by McGowan Fine Art Gallery in Concord.

The words, “Hope Chest,” evoked weddings, marriage, a life shared with someone special. Arnold’s other work in the show echoed this theme, but there was more.

Looking at his “Parquet,” oil and collage, I could almost place myself at the wedding reception captured in this large, circular piece. There was movement here, too. It was the black and white flooring my husband and I had danced on. Carol Burdett of Shelbourne, Vt., who was in town visiting her family the same day, found nostalgia in “Parquet,” too.

“This was the wallpaper in my bedroom 20 years ago,” she told me.

There were still more surprises from Arnold and other artists in this show, too many to count.
Thomas Meyer’s “Wave I with Bamboo” and “Wave II with Bamboo” beg to be explored from all vantages. Meyers lives in Hancock, where Lauren Pollaro, now a Portland, Maine, resident, is from. Her mixed media “Amulet” is made of sterling silver, copper, brass, found objects, vintage glass beads and wood.

There were other familiar artists: Paul Pollaro of Hancock and Jessie Pollock of Peterborough. Pollaro’s “Mirage,” mixed media, plays with color and texture. Pollock’s “Verdant Chaos,” encaustic (hot-wax painting), has a nature theme, as does Avy Claire’s “For the Trees” multi-panel installation.

A Blue Hill, Maine, resident, Claire has handwritten copy from news and fairytales in the shape of trees and printed it on polyester film, Sousa explained, something I hadn’t picked up on at first glance. I found myself saying, “Now I see,” to myself more than once on this visit to the gallery.

I left the exhibit with a feeling of limitlessness and the notion that things aren’t always what they seem. A message from the gods?

I don’t know, but it’s enough, for now.

This article appears in the Nov. 25, 2011, edition of the Ledger-Transcript.