Cultured

Got 3 hours to kill this afternoon since RJ missed his flight. Really didn't wanna sit around at home. I considered today the first warm day this year. 82°! Yeah, baby! I wanted to milk it! Decided to take a walk on the wild side and, ha! - go downtown. And what better venue to speed up the hands on the clock than a museum?!

I haven't been back since i last needed to identify with the artist in me when i first moved here. So, only 7 years? The identity crisis may never go away. It's good to acknowledge that. And it's good to get in touch with one's roots again. Without agenda or anticipation.

Bonus: caught an exhibit of Thiebald: 70 Years of Painting. I'd only studied him in textbooks and on slides. Seeing the evolution in stylization, dimension and his brilliant use of color was amazing. Basic forms such as slices of pies, doughnuts and cupcakes at the bakery inspired him. Apparently at age 88 he was still painting.

An artist is just a humble student who happens to be in awe with a lot of the surroundings that s/he takes in, mundane details that may escape others whose eyes and hearts are not as open. It's both a blessing and a curse, one might say.

Photography inside the galleries, with or without flash, was not allowed, unfortunately. The guy thanked me for inquiring.

So i did my best with outside the galleries.