I’m into globes right now.  When I got back from Washington D.C. a big box was waiting for me and inside was the black globe from my mom.  Thanks, mom!

I found the glass globe at an antique shop this past weekend.

The blue one has been in our school room for at least fifteen years.  Someone broke the stand so now it just rolls around.

I am glad that Andrew and I went to the Hirshhorn Museum, it’s usually the one I skip in favor of the National Gallery.  I know the National Gallery by heart, enter the main entrance, take a left then another left and you are in heaven, the most fabulous Rembrandts.

I am attracted to some modern art in a way that never used to appeal.  Some is just silly.  Some of it is eye catching and makes me smile.  I would put some of it up in my house.  I would be proud to say my grandchildren made this:

I like this in a very attainable way, not in a, my gosh, it’s a Vermeer way, but more like, hey kids let’s do a little project today at the kitchen table sort of way.

These are painted dowels evenly spaced.  Besides a museum where would you want to see this thing?  It takes a lot of space for this sort of art.  I know a boy who would be plucking and honing those dowels into arrows for his great hunt in the sage brush.  One very large room had polyester yarn hanging in about ten places from the ceiling and then secured tautly to the floor. (You MUST take a look at that gem!)  The sign upon entering said, “Do Not Touch the Art,” and there stood three women in the room, one gently running her finger down the yarn while one of the other women was scolding her, “It says. ‘Don’t Touch.’”  And really it was just silly, I mean suppose she broke a string, was it irreplaceable?  Would it take the artist to reattach the yarn to make it genuine?  Did American’s tax dollars go to pay for the thing!?

There is though an aspect to modern art that is very appealing to me; the obvious delight many abstract artists have in the everyday object of the everyday world.  Andy Warhol’s Campbell Soup Can piece of work, for example.  Who doesn’t love to see all their canned food happily, neatly and brightly arranged on the pantry shelf?  The duplication and repetition in his work is a great way to wordlessly demonstrate the age of machines and mass production.  Warhol didn’t really even participate in producing the piece; the labels were silkscreened by various helpers in the studio.  And doesn’t that too attest to the mass production of canned food?

Yet, given the choice between owning a Rembrandt and owning a Warhol, I know which one I’d choose.

One of my girlfriends has been pestering me to take pregnancy photos for a while and we finally got around to doing it–probably none too soon since I’m due to pop any day now.  I give her a big hand for being persistent.  I’m not an easy subject– I’m awkward in a photo shoot and I was adamant about not doing heart-hands-over-belly shots and made other demands.  Despite all that I think she did a fabulous job.  Here are some of my favorites. (click on the photo for a full view)

They’re pretty serious about this too; I saw a little boy turned away from entering the playground because he was trying to smuggle in his pot bellied pig.

This reminds me of a fantastic book, House of Sixty Fathers, a little boy in Japanese invaded China struggles for survival all alone except for the little pot bellied pig, that he has named, Glory of the Republic, that he carries with him tucked under his arm.  The book is geared toward upper elementary level students. I highly recommend it.

Chanel No 5

 I love the subtly elegant scent of Chanel No 5.

A turkey farm in Pennsylvania that I visited.

 I thought this was a beautiful photo with the swirls of white and pink and was quite pleased with the picture but Eric just thought it was weird.