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Plucking Thistles |
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"I want it said of me by those who knew me best, that I always plucked a thistle and planted a flower where I thought a flower would grow." — Abraham Lincoln What is the purpose of art, if not this? Every artist who has ever lifted a brush, shaped clay, or captured light through a lens has faced the thistle-strewn ground of our world—the ugliness, the pain, the spaces where beauty has been forgotten or destroyed. And every true artist has made the same choice Lincoln described: to remove what harms and plant what heals. This is not naive optimism. It's the most radical act of courage there is. The thistles are real. They are cynicism, despair, indifference. They are the voices that say "art doesn't matter," that dismiss creativity as frivolous, that claim beauty is a luxury we cannot afford. They are the blank walls, the empty spaces, the stories left untold, the perspectives left unseen. Artists see these thistles clearly—perhaps more clearly than anyone else. And rather than walking past them, rather than accepting them as permanent features of the landscape, artists do the difficult work of pulling them out by the roots. But removal is only half the work. Lincoln understood that pulling thistles creates space, but it doesn't create life. That requires intention. That requires planting. Every painting, sculpture, photograph, and installation is a flower planted in ground that might have remained barren. Every artist who shares their vision says: Here. Look. The world can be more than what it is. Let me show you what I see. And when others encounter that work—when they stand before it, moved or challenged or transported—another flower takes root. In them. The garden grows. Lincoln didn't speak of grand monuments or spectacular displays. He spoke of being remembered by "those who knew me best"—the people closest to him, who saw his daily choices, his consistent practice of choosing growth over decay. This is the artist's true legacy. Not just the works that hang on museum walls, but the countless small moments of choosing creativity over cynicism, beauty over bitterness, possibility over resignation. The student encouraged, the community engaged, the difficult subject approached with honesty and care. At the Sasse Museum of Art, we believe every person carries within them the capacity to pluck thistles and plant flowers. You don't need to be a professional artist to practice this radical act of creation. You need only to choose it: in how you see, in what you make, in how you engage with the world. What thistles will you pull today? What flowers will you plant? The garden awaits your hands. |
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Visit us at the Sasse Museum of Art and discover how artists throughout history have transformed thistles into flowers—and how you can to. |
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