Art, champagne, and the Big Easy

I'm all in a dither because tomorrow I'm flying to the Big Easy! This is my first solo weekend getaway in about 10 years and I can't wait to paint the town red. (I just hope the painting isn't done with my own blood.) I've had a lot of friends telling me to be careful. If you turn the TV on and see some hapless touist being pulled out of a cab and tossed around like a rag doll, it will probably be me.

My college buddy td is having an art show, and I'm meeting him and Snickers in New Orleans for the opening. God, I hope I don't do anything stupid and embarrass myself. The last thing I want is to be put on the spot and blurt out a comment about someone's painting. I'll say it right now: I am not qualified to comment on art! I either like something or I don't. I can't talk about composition, perspective, light, shading, shadow or technique. I can only comment on how the art makes me feel. I think I'm just going to drink a lot of champagne and people-watch. Should make for some interesting blog entries.

The most embarassed I've ever been when it comes to viewing art is the day I took my father to visit the Hirshhorn modern art museum in Washington, D.C. I didn't purposefully set out to show him this museum. He'd come up for a visit, and the metro dumped us out near the Smithsonian Castle. Walking down the gravel path, we came upon the modern art museum and he wandered in, drawn by the enormous Alexander Calder mobiles hanging in the courtyard. I followed reluctantly.

I should have pulled him out the first time he pointed and giggled.

While I could appreciate the human figures made of bronze, he saw only headless, lumpy ladies with saggy breasts. I tried to put myself inside the empty space of a painting with only one red line; Dad said a child could do better than that. His reaction to the mixed media exhibits were gales of guffaws. It got worse and worse, and I started to feel like he was reverting back to an Arkansas hillbilly rather than the minister that he was. How else to explain his inability to at least pretend to appreciate the efforts these artists had made?

I really can't wait to see td's art, framed and professionally displayed. I'm just glad I'm leaving my dad at home.