Saturday, March 5, 2011

Oh, we love Artsy-Fartsy!



  Back in the day, while I was still attending college, I attempted (and succeeded to a certain degree) to be cultured. My very first semester of college, while mending a broken heart (a much needed ingredient to being cultured and artsy is heartbreak), I took music theory. If you know me, you are aware of my complete lack of musical ability. I managed to snag an "A" in that class. By the end of it, I could read music, write music (not anything fancy) and understood the basics. I was even complimented by my teacher on a few occasions. We called him Mark, not Professor. He had a very long ponytail and told us to listen to Danny Elfman scores. In order to continue my "artsy fartsy-ness" I took Art History in my last semester at Crafton. I had a small Russian professor. She wore her bleached blonde hair short, except for one dread-lock. I really wanted to take a pair of scissors to it. It drove me bonkers. While her whole class could manage to make it to class, she didn't show up. It wasn't rare, it was often. She gave extra credit for visiting museums. I managed to get to The Getty with my friends Jill & Courtney.  I'd never been and it was a beautiful, amazing shock. I ended up at The Getty two more times that year. Once with a guy named Dave who read really deep books on every subject and sat in Starbucks while drinking ice tea. That's how I found out his name, it was on his Starbucks cup. Being the enterprising girl I was, we struck up conversations about books. I don't imagine he thought much of me, but gee golly I was smitten. We went to The Getty and he got in trouble for touching a painting (in a nice, bumbling, Hugh Grant sort of way), he managed to feed a homeless man while we were eating on the way home and then we drove through Redlands listening to Iron and Wine and Bright Eyes. He was nice. I didn't see much of him after that, he went on a mission trip.
   The important part of this story being that I met a guy named Cameron a few weeks after that. We went on a date to The Getty and while we were there Cameron saw the name "Mae" on a photo exhibit. He looked at me and said "Someday, when we have kids, we're naming our girl Mae." I guess that trip worked out well. :)
 Today we are finally taking our Mae (and Josiah of course!) to The Getty. I'm particularly excited to see Van Gogh's Irises again. You see my few readers, last week Josiah and I watched an episode of Doctor Who where The Doctor and Amy go back in time and meet Vincent Van Gogh. It touches quite a bit on his depression and the tragedy that he only sold one painting in his lifetime. Amy becomes attached to him and knows that it's only a matter of time before he kills himself. In a tender moment (the Doctor is not always tender), they bring him onboard the TARDIS (The Doctor's "Spaceship/Time Machine" for those of you who don't dwell in Nerd Town) and bring him to modern day Paris to see how popular his work is. How appreciated he is. Bill Nighy plays a Museum docent (In a Bow tie! Bow Ties are cool!) who gives an amazing discourse essentially about how Van Gogh might be the most amazing painter ever and that his work touches millions of people. He also mentions their value. Van Gogh cries and hugs him.
Obviously it's a work of fiction, but wouldn't it be nice to have given Van Gogh a peek into the future?
Again, all that to say that Josiah knows that one of Van Gogh's works, Irises is at The Getty. He is looking forward to seeing it.
I'am excited to share culture and art appreciation to my kids. What a treat to live so close to so much!
I hope you all enjoyed my rambling stories to get to the point of it all. We're taking our kids to the museum. :)

  Look at the sky. It's not dark and black and without character. The black is, in fact deep blue. And over there: lighter blue and blowing through the blues and blackness the winds swirling through the air and then shining, burning, bursting through: the stars!  And you see how they roar their light. Everywhere we look, the complex magic of nature blazes before our eyes.  

- Vincent and The Doctor

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