Last time we got together, I asked readers: "Are you an artist?" You can click on the "Culture Vulture Message Board to participate in a quick poll on that subject.

I also promised to concentrate on artists in our area who work on a very large scale. Other artists seek them out and emulate their work. Let's explore these mystery artists who most likely think they're not artists.

What is art?

OK, forget it. We're not going to start from scratch here. Let's agree to certain premises. We agree that many painters paint landscapes, and that is art. We agree that photographers can make beautiful, artistic photos of landscapes, and they are also creating works of art. We agree that art involves a certain level of composition, implementation, aesthetics and skill. Not everyone shares the same appreciation or agreement in what they like or expect to see in art, but these elements are part of what artists deal with to create art.

If someone paints a bucolic farm scene, they are an artist. Ditto a photographer. Why, then, is the person who created what the painter is painting, the one who composed the landscape, who implemented the design according to (and sometimes despite) the materials at hand, the one who decided on the appearance of the elements in the scene -- why is that person not an artist? I maintain that the FARMER is also an artist, working on a canvas not measured in inches, but in acres.

When I traveled this past spring, I marveled at the fields of chartreuse green plants, contrasted by the dark, newly upturned earth. I love the way rows of crops straddle the angle of the rolling hill, the way the fields are made to dissect one another, the way some farmers edge their crops with contrasting plants. There is a barn, at an angle just so, a modest house with a brilliant slash of color on the roof. Someone made the esthetic decisions to reach that result. It's not function without form. You've probably all seen Monet's famous paintings of fields of harvested hay, casting long shadows and glowing under the setting sun.

You've all seen the fields of harvested hay around here, too. The question is not "why was Monet captivated by bales of hay?" The question is: why don't we recognize that such man-made beauty is a work of art? Is it only art when someone else interprets its obvious beauty? And what of its creator? "Just" a farmer? I think not. It's art, and the farmer is an artist, on a grand scale. And think about it, farmers are living and working inside the scene they created, every day.

So, next time you pass a beautiful farm, notice its compositional elements, examine the design decisions that were made to create that scene. Think "nice art, farmer." And if you know a farmer or two, tell them that some artsy-fartsy broad thinks they're artists and appreciates their work.

Next column: Fabulous cows of Craig County!

Some designers in Craig County are working using live animals. Their work is fabulous, so apparently they know what they're doing -- but do they know it's art? And, what will the animal rights activists say?

Miriam Young is a creative director living in color in Roanoke. Note: Some Web links provided may contain art featuring nudity, strong political content and bizarre visions. Parental guidance is suggested. Respect the copyrights of the owners when visiting online galleries and obtain artists' permission before downloading any images.