Every town, at some point, faces a quiet choice: whether it will be defined by convenience or by care, by cynicism or by wonder.

 

While these reflections come from life in Laguna Beach, they speak to any town wrestling with how to remain human, creative, and connected in an increasingly distracted world.

 

At this time of year, when families gather and transitions invite reflection, many of us find ourselves thinking not just about what we’ve done, but about what truly matters.

 

There’s a word that keeps coming back to me lately: wonder, the root of what we so often describe as “wonderful,” or being truly full of wonder.

 

You see it most clearly in children, in their eyes, in their excitement for new ideas, new discoveries, new possibilities. Somewhere along the way, many of us lose touch with that feeling. Routine takes over. Practicality crowds out curiosity. And yet, wonder may be one of the most essential forces we have, because it’s what reminds us why life feels meaningful in the first place.

 

Ongoing conversations with a local musician have reminded me just how central wonder is, not only to the arts, but to how we stay connected to our deepest truths as we move through life.

 

Because life is finite. Brief, really. A small, miraculous overlap of time in which we are all here together, sharing this town, this coastline, this moment. When we pause long enough to notice, wonder is still everywhere.

 

Laguna Beach has always been a town that understood this.

 

It wasn’t founded simply as a place to live, but as an idea, an arts colony built by people willing to imagine something more than what was immediately practical. Artists, writers, musicians, and thinkers came here because they believed creativity mattered. That ideas mattered. That reaching for something idealistic was worth the risk, even if failure was part of the journey.

 

And failure is part of the journey.

 

Life isn’t a straight line. It’s more like a horse race where everyone falls off again and again. What matters isn’t who never falls, it’s who gets back on with a smile, still willing to try. The pursuit itself, aiming high, even knowing we’ll miss, is what brings us closest to what feels true.

 

Every civilization in history has ultimately been judged not by what it consumed, but by what it created. By its art. Its stories. Its music. Its ability to express what it means to be human. Laguna is no different, and in many ways, uniquely positioned. Few towns can honestly say they were founded on the arts and still carry that identity forward today.

 

Our galleries, theaters, music venues, film programs, and cultural spaces, large and small, form a shared ecosystem. Together, they inspire us, recharge us, and help us see beyond the narrow lanes of daily routine. They bring families together. They create moments where learning, understanding, and connection happen naturally, without shouting, without defenses.

 

On a personal level, I’ve learned that when I wasn’t following my dreams, when my actions drifted away from what I cared about most, I lost my sense of direction. Even felt depressed. What brought clarity back wasn’t certainty or success, but alignment: putting energy into what mattered most, even when the path was uncertain.

 

That’s the quiet power of the arts. Artists and performers dedicate their lives to their craft, not because it’s easy, but because it’s true for them. And through that dedication, they become inspiring. When we gather around their work, something transfers. We’re reminded of possibility. We leave a little more awake than when we arrived.

 

The arts also do something rare: they deliver understanding without force. They educate without lecturing. They open doors rather than draw lines. In that way, they offer a powerful path for positive change, one that exists outside politics and beyond division.

 

This season invites us to reflect on what we value, and to act on that care. Not everyone has to step forward. History shows us that meaningful progress has always been driven by a relatively small group of people willing to lift a finger, to show, through action, that something matters to them. Love, after all, isn’t just a feeling. It’s an action.

 

Laguna Beach has an extraordinary legacy. But legacy isn’t something we inherit automatically. It’s something we renew, by choosing wonder over cynicism, idealism over complacency, and shared experience over isolation.

 

If this resonates with you, I invite you to support the arts in Laguna Beach, the people, the spaces, and the organizations that help keep this spirit alive. Not as a transaction, but as a statement of belief in what this community can continue to be.

 

These choices don’t belong to any single season. They are the quiet decisions communities make again and again, shaping who we become over time.

 

At its core, the arts are not about division.

 

They are about understanding, and about reminding us, together, of the wonder that makes a life, and a town, worth reaching for.

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Rick Conkey

Founder & CEO

Laguna Beach Cultural Arts Center