Art Museum

I went to the Polk Museum of Art for this assignment, and I stayed there for at least 40 minutes.

It was great to walk around the art museum this weekend. I have always known it was there, but I never really took the time to go inside it (which is ironic/sad because I am a huge art fanatic).
It seems crazy to think that so much art is all stored in one place like that, just waiting to be discovered. And it is in such a remote location that I can’t imagine it sees too many new faces very often.
While I was there I noticed a middle-aged couple who were perusing the gallery as well. In the ceramic section I sat down and just watched them for a little bit. I know they weren’t an exhibit, and they may have even just been tourists, but in a way they were still part of the art there. It was inspiring to see the man take such interest and fascination in something that seemed more like the woman’s hobby than his own. And the way she looked at each piece as though it were one of the greatest things, as if somehow each piece were better than the previous. There was nothing particularly memorable about these people, not to demean them in any way, but they stood out to me.
There was a piece outside that I thought was particularly hilarious; it was titled Still Life and Pears (or something similar to that effect, I don’t remember exactly), and it had a house-like structure sitting next to some pears. I know it sound ridiculous but I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. :D
I really enjoyed a lot of the works in the student gallery too. It is crazy for me to think that these people are my age or younger and they have produced works that earned enough merit to be in a museum, no matter how small of one.



The Truth Is…

Just a few faces shining back at me
Like some sort of house of mirrors

Some are smiling, frowning, sober
Others shy, prideful, smug

Some live abundantly and are the envy of their neighbors
The rest are the neighbors, envying even just clean water

It is humbling when you step into the empty home
Realizing they are still happy; even they can be happy.



Labor

Calloused hands run over the page of designs
What will be the next hit is the question
Maybe blossoms, but it is summer so maybe waves
Maybe they will want to get ready for the soon approaching cool season
So maybe maple leaves

Carefully picking out the spindles so as not to rough the material
The calloused hands begin to set up the loom
These threads will form fabric
And this fabric will feed a family
From one artist to another


Laughable

They will see this and not understand
Nevertheless, I continue