So. I've lived in pretty close proximity to the art museum for the entirety of my residency in Philadelphia, and yet, up until last week, I managed to avoid actually entering the building. It's hard to explain the strange fear/resistance complex I developed about the whole thing. I like art. I do. And I like walking to nearby places and seeing things. But somehow that just didn't translate to any burning desire to actually do so in the case of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. This position softened slightly when my father gave me a membership for Christmas. Softened in that I began thinking that I should really go inside. And yet, still, I did not. This is in part some sort of fear of entering places that are big and have lines, neither of which I understand. Basically I want to look like I know what I'm doing at all times, and the museum struck me as a potentially troubling spot for that reality. What? Anyways. Enough was enough. I asked my new friend G. if he might not like to join me on my inaugural look at the place, and he said yes. So we went. On that day Rocky was wearing a sweater.
We went in the front entrance and the line was very long and I was confused. G. suggested we go to the super secret back entrance (not super secret if you're not a dumb dumb like myself), which we did with great success. So the museum is really not that scary guys. Everyone should just get a grip...like this painted figure did to the back of some other person's figure in this religious painting. What? I tired of the walls and walls of Jesus paintings, but imagined spending quality time in the Japanese Garden/Hindu Temple exhibits. I expected more Duchamp.
There were some more contemporary exhibits, one of which I really liked but because it was on loan I had to erase my photographs in front of a guard and I've forgotten the artist's name. Saws with phrases on them? Anyone? The armor stuff was cool, though Chicago's museum had a bigger and more demanding spacial display. You know what I mean.
Also? Spring seems to be here for real. I need to stop procrastinating and take a million photographs of my neighborhood's revival of prettiness after the greys and mud of the winter.
We made our own art along with a broken disk from a book written by Candace Bushnell. Famous for life.
We went in the front entrance and the line was very long and I was confused. G. suggested we go to the super secret back entrance (not super secret if you're not a dumb dumb like myself), which we did with great success. So the museum is really not that scary guys. Everyone should just get a grip...like this painted figure did to the back of some other person's figure in this religious painting. What? I tired of the walls and walls of Jesus paintings, but imagined spending quality time in the Japanese Garden/Hindu Temple exhibits. I expected more Duchamp.
There were some more contemporary exhibits, one of which I really liked but because it was on loan I had to erase my photographs in front of a guard and I've forgotten the artist's name. Saws with phrases on them? Anyone? The armor stuff was cool, though Chicago's museum had a bigger and more demanding spacial display. You know what I mean.
Also? Spring seems to be here for real. I need to stop procrastinating and take a million photographs of my neighborhood's revival of prettiness after the greys and mud of the winter.
We made our own art along with a broken disk from a book written by Candace Bushnell. Famous for life.
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