It was time for a driveabout, so I checked the oil, threw a few CDs on the passenger seat, and headed east.
On Tuesday I arrived in Wilson, about an hour on the far side of Raleigh, population 50,000 or so. Perhaps best known by art afficionados and tourists for its Vollis Simpson Whirligig Park, Wilson also serves as home base for a number of art studios and galleries of varying size and styles. (One gallery is savvy enough to feature one of Clark Whittington’s Art-O-Mat machines.) The downtown area is also rich with public art in the form of colorful murals, sculptures and painted furniture. (There’s also a botanical garden with a labyrinth a little to the south.) I walked around a good bit, poking my head in galleries and studios, but during the heat of the day, I retreated to an air-conditioned coffeehouse with a book and a smoothie.
Incidentally, my definition of public art is broad enough to include pretty much anything creative that’s in public view — from chalk sketches on the sidewalk to the palimpsest of old-timey advertising on brick walls. And I don’t care if it’s paid for by public or private money; if it’s whimsical or serious; if it’s meant to stimulate conversation or delight the eye; it’s all art.
Several downtown storefronts in Wilson were boarded up, a reminder that some of our state’s communities still struggle economically. Tobacco and vape outlets littered the roadside.
But local artists have found ways to fill store windows with their work, an assertion that they’ve not given up, that the human spirit still flourishes.
Wednesday morning I drove east again to Farmville, population 5,000 or so, for the biscuits at The Little Rocket. Limited to two outside tables that must be shared with mosquitoes, customers usually order from the window, then sit in their cars to eat. My biscuit was fluffy and crumbly, a greasy delight. I ordered mine with bacon, egg and cheese, and the cook was not skimpy with the bacon.
Downtown Farmville was as clean as George Bailey’s Bedford Falls. There was not a scrap of litter and everything looked freshly painted. All of the storefronts were occupied, sometimes by restaurants with outdoor seating.
Artistic expression was everywhere.
And rather than a Confederate statue, the city has this:
During the heat of the day, I retreated to the public library, where I asked a librarian to what she would attribute Farmville’s success.
“Well, there’s a lot of old money in the city, and a lot of property in a small number of hands. But the property owners work with the city government to keep spaces affordable.”
Was I right to sense a significant degree of artistic expression?
“Yes, the city’s got a resident artist who teaches art classes. And she runs this renovated movie theater where young people put on plays.”
Plus, Farmville serves as a bedroom community for people who work in Greenville and Raleigh.
She pointed me, also, to a walking trail and a disc golf course, both recent additions to the town’s amenities.
“So it sounds like everyone is pitching in,” I suggested.
“Yes, it takes a community,” she replied, smiling.
And you know how it goes. While admiring the art, the sidewalk dining, the clean and vibrant storefronts and parks, I caught myself thinking, why can’t we do this back home?
But, back home later in the week, I wondered if this was a fair question. You can’t throw a paint brush in the City of Arts and Innovation without hitting some kind of artist. We have prestigious galleries and museums; theater and film festivals and an independent cinema. We have our own whirligig park downtown. We also have thriving bookstores, which both Wilson and Farmville lack. We have a whole arts district. Visitors are likely to see these things and think, why can’t we do this back home?
I wandered around town for a while Friday morning, reminding myself of our many murals and public sculptures. I sat in the art park next to Red Dog Gallery, and caught Leo Rucker as he touched up his Broad Street mural. I read fliers advertising musical and theatrical events that I hadn’t known were taking place.
Maybe it’s me; maybe I’m out of touch, or inured to what I see every day. The grass is always greener, the biscuits always fluffier, the next town over.
I still wish we had more: More art, more often, splashed everywhere, saturating our surroundings, refreshed and increased, with more participation and appreciation. I want us to have no doubt that we deserve our slogan.
Maybe the city should just hire collaborative community muralist Marianne Di Napoli-Mylet and give her permission to paint any wall she likes.
Except maybe with foxes. Foxes are good subjects.
We people like new things — not because we’re fickle or flighty, but because fresh sights and sounds are stimulating to the mind and the soul. Creativity and beauty inspire and energize us.
Through public art, we build connections to one another, create a common identity. We tell the world the story of who we are as a community — or who we aspire to be.
What story do we want to tell the world?
…….
Overflow:
Vollis Simpson Whirligig Park:
.
What is public art, anyway?
I don’t have the names of all the artists whose work I’ve posted, but the lovely clothed animals in Wilson’s Artsy Alley were painted by hometown artist Ashley Fabrizio:
https://www.instagram.com/ashleyfabrizioart/
Our own Marianne Di Napoli-Mylet is a community gem:
https://www.dinapoli-mylet.com/
My little snippets here are from her mural on the side of the Sprague Street Community Center:
https://wstoday.6amcity.com/sprague-street-park-community-center-mural
Last week I noted the difference between former president and convicted felon Donald Trump’s “only I can save us” attitude and Vice President Kamala Harris’s “we can do this together.” The difference was only reinforced by President Biden’s success bringing captive Americans home from Russian prisons, including Wall Street Journal reporter Evan Gershkovich.
While Trump fussed and fumed on social media — not once expressing gratitude for American citizens being rescued from cruel captivity — Biden welcomed American citizens home to their families and praised the allies who worked with him for months to accomplish the goal. Biden called it “a feat of diplomacy and friendship.”
https://www.washingtonpost.com/national-security/2024/08/01/deal-us-russia-prisoner-swap/
Sarah Longwell, Republican strategist, on CNN: “[Trump] sits there on his phone, grumpy that the hostages are home, mad that he doesn’t get to feign, like he and Putin have some special deal, so he’s gonna be able to negotiate this. He’s always ‘Trump first, America last,’ despite his rhetoric. … This is where Republicans have lost the plot on who they were …”
We don’t need a political savior; we need each other.
A slight change in plans:
Press 53 publisher Kevin Watson and I are organizing a caravan to Ben's Ice Cream in Eagle Springs, N.C., which I wrote about in my book, "Stardust and Scar Tissue." Delicious ice cream, great summertime trek on the backroads!
Rather than 2 p.m., we’ll meet at 1 p.m. Saturday, Aug. 10, in the parking lot behind Bank of America in Parkway Plaza on Silas Creek Parkway to organize a carpool. Lots of seats will be available for those who prefer not to drive. We'll take the scenic route and pause here and there for fun.
Drop me a line at mick27101@gmail.com if you'd like to join us, so we know who to expect and don’t leave without you.
My book is still available from my friends at Bookmarks, the Book Ferret, the Central Library or directly from the publisher, Press 53.
If you’re not yet a subscriber, you can have my essays delivered to your inbox on Sundays (and occasionally other times).
Thanks for being here today, friends.
LOVE Mr. Fox! ur amigo, LGL
Thank you for the tour, Mick. I also like that you offered one answer to your closing question in the overflow. What story do we want to tell the world? We need each other. 👍😊 Kudos for a kind and friendly Sunday read.