Doors Into Summer

I don't know if Art on Wheels did it with me in mind, but it's working out awfully well for me.

Last Tuesday they launched their summer project, "Find Art Doors," a group of 40 salvaged doors that were then painted by local artists and planted in the ground around town to be discovered.

So far, I've come across five, all by well-know and talented artists: Mickael Broth (the guy who did the looming wizard mural at the GRTC depot), Ed Trask (with his signature bird), Jackson Ward native Sir James Thornhill (right on Clay Street, so mere blocks from my house!), Noah Scalin (but of course there's a skull on it) and today's find, Chris Milk (in Oregon Hill, natch, and with his trademark bicycles).

Every time I come upon one, I'm surprised and delighted. I have no intention of looking at a map of where they all are because I want to feel like I stumble on them in a happy accident.

Because I set out to find none of them, I have done exactly what Art on Wheels wants: I'm discovering these works of art on old doors while enjoying my city. With 35 left, I've got some discovering to do, but also plenty of summer to do it in.

I came upon the one today as I was returning from my walk over to Belle Isle, a glorious day to do so given the 77 degree temperatures, low humidity and light breeze.

It was while I was sitting on a sunny rock there, my legs and feet submerged in the burbling water near a rapid, the back of my shorts getting rapidly soaked, that I hear a voice behind me.

"Can we take your picture and ask you a few questions?" a girl standing next to a guy with an actual camera (not cell phone) inquires. "It's for a project for school."

Sure thing.

"What did you have for breakfast?" she asks as the guy begins snapping. Oatmeal with fresh blueberries I tell her. "Mmm, that sounds delicious!" she enthuses. Given that it's high blueberry season, I assure her it was.

"Where do you live?" I tell her Jackson Ward and ask where she lives, Gesturing with her arm in a sweeping gesture, she says she lives everywhere. Not sure how to respond, I tell her she's lucky then.

"You look very happy," she states, which is not a question at all. Splashing my feet in the water, I ask her who wouldn't be happy sitting by the river on a day so gorgeous.

Smiling, she makes my day. "You're going to be my favorite picture."

She's going to be my favorite interviewer.