angelophyta
Feb. 20th, 2014 07:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yamamanama27 days until the vernal equinox
So I went to the Gardner Museuem, where the garden remains in perpetual summer (there are booklets that list the kind of plants they have in the courtyard and why flowering plants don't thrive there), away from the polar vortices, or rather, the brief respite from the dreaded polar vortices. There is a special exhibition on photographs of where the stolen paintings were and people's thoughts on what they saw. Some of them are separated into black on white and white on black, and the black on white section is the approximate size and shape of the stolen work being commented on. Someone asks (go to burning question) and someone said if we found the napoleonic eagle, then we'd know who stole the paintings, because he doubts anyone really cares about that thing.
The woman at the coat check had a sketchbook of her art, mostly done in pen, more refined than my quick sketches.
This guy was saying that since his hair was gray and fairly curled, he'd grow it out like the guy in the painting, but velvet doesn't suit him. Maybe velour would.
There was a canary there too. Or not. But it was some kind of bird. Too-witta-wee.
There was a woman with all her hair shaven except for a lock of yellow and pink, and a woman with bright laser lemon hair with fine black streaks in it and oversized headphones and glasses. I wasn't able to interact with the former because I had to run to the E train and I wasn't able to interact with the latter because I doubt she could hear me. I think I saw a glimpse of a woman with purple hair as well.
There was a guy playing guitar (including Field of Gold, which I actually associate more with Jake Shimabukuro and ukuleles) at Park Street. Thankfully, no alarm like last time, because I did have to wait about ten minutes.
and on the red line home, I sketched some people (it's pretty cool because sometimes they're in motion and you end up capturing that motion inadvertently) and discussed art with them, and this guy who does voice acting said "yeah, the train's always empty by Braintree."
I asked him "Did we just pass by Quincy Adams?" because I needed to get off there.
And he said "I don't think we're all crazy."
I told the woman I drew to maybe take some art classes or make some art. Her friends back in high school did what I did, and by that, I mean, they were in art programs. I told her the thing I miss most about high school is the nearly limitless (to me, anyway) supplies for sculpting and painting. It's sincere. It certainly as hell wasn't the Yama Whumping Association or being subject to Shannon's Law.
This kid in the glass elevator said "the wall is made of window" and that is why he couldn't touch the bricks behind them.
burning question: What is Rembrandt doing in the Sea of Galilee?
So I went to the Gardner Museuem, where the garden remains in perpetual summer (there are booklets that list the kind of plants they have in the courtyard and why flowering plants don't thrive there), away from the polar vortices, or rather, the brief respite from the dreaded polar vortices. There is a special exhibition on photographs of where the stolen paintings were and people's thoughts on what they saw. Some of them are separated into black on white and white on black, and the black on white section is the approximate size and shape of the stolen work being commented on. Someone asks (go to burning question) and someone said if we found the napoleonic eagle, then we'd know who stole the paintings, because he doubts anyone really cares about that thing.
The woman at the coat check had a sketchbook of her art, mostly done in pen, more refined than my quick sketches.
This guy was saying that since his hair was gray and fairly curled, he'd grow it out like the guy in the painting, but velvet doesn't suit him. Maybe velour would.
There was a canary there too. Or not. But it was some kind of bird. Too-witta-wee.
There was a woman with all her hair shaven except for a lock of yellow and pink, and a woman with bright laser lemon hair with fine black streaks in it and oversized headphones and glasses. I wasn't able to interact with the former because I had to run to the E train and I wasn't able to interact with the latter because I doubt she could hear me. I think I saw a glimpse of a woman with purple hair as well.
There was a guy playing guitar (including Field of Gold, which I actually associate more with Jake Shimabukuro and ukuleles) at Park Street. Thankfully, no alarm like last time, because I did have to wait about ten minutes.
and on the red line home, I sketched some people (it's pretty cool because sometimes they're in motion and you end up capturing that motion inadvertently) and discussed art with them, and this guy who does voice acting said "yeah, the train's always empty by Braintree."
I asked him "Did we just pass by Quincy Adams?" because I needed to get off there.
And he said "I don't think we're all crazy."
I told the woman I drew to maybe take some art classes or make some art. Her friends back in high school did what I did, and by that, I mean, they were in art programs. I told her the thing I miss most about high school is the nearly limitless (to me, anyway) supplies for sculpting and painting. It's sincere. It certainly as hell wasn't the Yama Whumping Association or being subject to Shannon's Law.
This kid in the glass elevator said "the wall is made of window" and that is why he couldn't touch the bricks behind them.
burning question: What is Rembrandt doing in the Sea of Galilee?
