Two days ago I walked into the HFAC looking for a little bit of comfort to soothe my worried soul. I find that wandering among exhibits and galleries helps me reflect, and gives me something to think about besides my own baggage. I sort stuff out internally as I respond to the works.
However, as I walked in, I realized everyone was bustling around, preparing for a new exhibit. All of my familiar paintings and photographs had been taken down, and everything was bland, waiting for something new to say; the walls were ready to begin construction on a new exhibit, to illuminate new perspectives instead of those of the paintings they had been carrying for so long.
I was dismayed at first, and then decided to do the same.
The perfect metaphor, sans art. Oh, the irony.
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2 comments:
betsy, that's deep? I hope you are doing alright, I love you and I'm here for ya if you need me. :D
aw, i love that song, and you, and that time we were looking at the drawings upstairs and i loved that one of the boy and his hipbone. oh, how i miss you.
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