Which preamble is, of course, to beg a bit of patience for words cobbled together in a hotel room as Pater shaves, knowing we'll be heading out for breakfast in minutes. Today we leave SF for Yountville, so we'll be packing up, then heading to the airport (on BART, wheeling our own small cases -- why I love to travel carry-on light) to pick up the rental car and figure out the map. While I still have much to say about SF, and will in a few future posts, I especially wanted to share some photos of the glorious art we've managed to view. Above, a section, then the whole, of a painting by James Rosenquist . . .
a painting-collage by Robert Rauschenberg . . .
I so wish I'd captured a delicate print by Paul Klee with the marvellous title "Angel Brings what is Desired" . . .
I do have many more photographs of various paintings at the SFMOMA to help me remember what I saw. Exhibition catalogues are great, of course, but the cost and weight and shelf space becomes a bit prohibitive, and I find I often do well remembering if I make rudimentary notes in my little Moleskine notebook. I jot down a very superficial, basic description -- colour, size, main lines or shapes or figures, and then I note my own perceptions about the painting's surface as well as what it might have reminded me of, connections with other works I've seen, etc., Having a photo to look at for a better reminder is helpful, and so easily managed these digital days, if the gallery/museum allows it (and they often do, if flash-free). If I don't get a photograph, quite often an image can be Googled, especially if I've been careful to copy the title and/or provenance (as, for example, the Klee that I failed to photograph . . . )
Okay, so if you've persevered this long reading the new blogger Lisa's introduced you to, you'll imagine Pater waiting, shaved and ready for breakfast by the door. And you'll know that I can ramble . . . I'll hurry it up, shall I, and move to the streets of the Mission District, where I found paintings to rival the SFMOMA's contemporary art . . .
This one, for example, immediately made me think of the colours and even the geometrically graphic strength of the Rosenquist Pencils painting above
And moving to the opposite side of the colour wheel . . . and to a different mythology perhaps . . .
And would this be too obvious, too graphic, a segue to the shout-out I need to send back home? Happy Birthday to my Gorgeous, Sensitive, Strong, Clever, Daughter, Rhiannon! Although my kids are now in their 20s and 30s, I still feel displaced, guilty I guess, anxious even, when I'm not at home with them on their birthdays. Of course, they've moved past needing Mom to bake their favourite cakes and are quite happy to celebrate with their partners. And in Rhiannon's case, celebrating with her partner on her birthday is doubly the way to go because it's his birthday as well. (even more of a coincidence is that besides Rhiannon and her partner sharing a birthday, my oldest daughter and my son, our youngest, share the same birthday as well) So Happy Birthday to Brian, someone we're so happy to have in the family, and may you both have a splendid day together, relaxing with your new kitten.
Two final photos, of a powerful mural about Immigrant life in the U.S.
-- and then I'll offer a wealth of questions you could comment on:
How do you remember art you view when you're out and about?
Do you share a birthday with anyone close to you?
Do you make sure to be there for your kids' birthdays or are they generally on their own now that they're adults?
Do you, conversely, expect your parents to be there for your birthday or do you assume you're free to make your own celebration?
What colourful streets will you walk today? Or will you be nestled up with a book or something restful in your own home (as, I admit, a teeny little part of myself is wishing to do).
Thanks for visiting . . . do come back and see me when I'm actually at home!