Monday, March 21, 2016

Malibu morning picture of the day - Monday, March 21, 2016

Dear Family, Friends, and Gentle Readers,

A grey-silver kind of morning here at the Bu.
























Today in LA it's overcast and even foggy in places. This morning I was at my dentist's office in Encino on the 12th floor and all you could see out his window was cloud. Here's more of the same to the south.

Hope you all had nice weekend. I got myself a little culture, paying a visit to the Museum of Latin American Art and its sister institution the Pacific Island Ethnic Art Museum on Saturday, both in Long Beach. Then, on Sunday I went to go see a small theatre production of Gilbert and Sullivan's Yeoman of the Guard.

I will share things that I saw here and there, but I couldn't help snapping as selfie in front of this work, since I had just been pictured with it's inspiration a few days earlier.

I was reading an article recently where someone was decrying the practice of all of us banal, barbarian, clueless Americans who take pictures of ourselves in front of great art. The writer thought it cheapened her whole experience of the appreciation of art, turning august institutions into cheap sideshows. How I dare turn things like Van Gogh's Irises or Gainsborough's Blue Boy, into the equivalent of pull-down backgrounds at the budget photographer's concession in the neighborhood Sears Roebuck! The noive!

Well, I would counter that there's no point in taking a picture of a famous painting since better photographers have gotten permission and access and the ability to light it well. We barbarians want to remember that we actually saw the thing; and the best way to do that is to put ourselves there alongside the subject to prove that in that masterpiece's long, protected, curated life, our brief time on earth coincided.

Nobody gets bent out of shape when we take pictures of ourselves at the Grand Canyon. So snap away my fellow barbarians and ignore the snobs. Kinda reminds me of educated people who complain that voter apathy is so high, but how horrified they become when the great American humanity does show up at the polls and starts casting votes for Donald Trump. If you don't want us, stop inviting us.

While I was at the Pacific Island Ethnic Arts Museum, I met this beautiful island woman. I was taking a close look at her--she had the most unusual dark skin color. Her legs are even SHORTER than MINE. Soulmate material! Love at first sight.

Her first words to me: "My eyes are up here." BUSTED.

Awkward start, but we connected for a bit--I thought she could be the one, but she reminded me we come from different backgrounds and she's older than me and it would probably never work out. So as much as I wanted to take her home, we let it go at that. Shot down again!

Turns out her professional specialty is fertility. Trouble with having a girl like that in your house is that you'd be perpetually mowing the grass on weekends and finding bugs and small animals in your residence whom she would forbid you to harm, so if you're anything like a neat freak, you'd best pass. (For those of you who have bothered to read my serial novel, latter-day Qi, mother of Fei, is basically a fertility god incarnate along this line ...).

Anyway, gotta go, but have yerself a great week.

Love,
Pops








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