Last Day You'll Be Here, b'bye!

For some weird reason, even though I know I won't be chosen (or even feel badly) to leave because of my nasty attitude, I am getting kind of invested in this. I spend my days looking for things that WILL go and things that's WON'T go! Should I bother to fold the laundry? Why should I fill up the gas tank? Make the bed? I simply cannot think of a single good reason. Actually, I am kind of looking forward to things around here as I rescue all the pets. I get to wander through peoples houses because who will be around to care? Of course I will run into my fellow heathens too but I get first dibs since I am taking the pets. It's only fair. Christian ladies, please leave your good jewelry out- I promise I'll give it a good home along with Buffy and Sneezy! I especially like antique settings... (If it is slated to go to someone who may still be around I promise I'll find them and get it to them asap.)

Last night I was watching my usual (ahem) educational television and rekniting some ribbing for the third time when I saw something out of the corner of my eye- indeed a lizard had appeared from behind the big ole flatscreen and was headed up the wall. He toured the perimeter of the room, came down at the window and sat there looking at me with his beady little eyes. I went to bed to leave him to his own channel selections, probably that show where they catch and release alligators. I know from experience that lizard-catching, especially 'on high' is futile. Besides, if he can find any due to Nozzle Nolan's diligence and my frantic regular phone calls, he eats bugs.

From Cool Hunting this morning, the answer to art exhibits everywhere! I'll let them explain:

"Coelho proves that the discerning palate isn't just relegated to cooking with his Art-O-Meter prototype, a device that evaluates the artistic taste of an attending audience at an art exhibition. Using a sensor, the Art-O-Meter records the amount of time that the viewer stands in front of the artwork, which is measured against the total length of time for the exhibition. Despite the ingenuity of the product, Coelho indicates that the response was divided into two camps—"the people who loved it because now they could finally tell the good art from the bad art, and people who hated it because they believed that now science was able to measure the quality of an artwork in a quantitative way."

So, the deal is that it measures how long a viewer stands in front of a piece to decide what is 'good' art, assuming that the better it is, the longer one will look at it. What do you think? I know sometimes I get VERY involved with bad art and will stand viewing and thinking WTF, hopefully under my breath, for a very long time. Certain quilts come to mind off the top of my head, maybe one in particular that was wall sized, traveled the country garnering awards (!) and done by someone who's never learned how to draw. All I could figure was that sheer size seems to be the catch. Hideous, yet I too stood there with my jaw dropped. Luckily I was with a friend who pulled me away before my thoughts became vocal. We laughed till we had tears later at lunch.

Because lunch is a requirement at any art day, even bad quilt days.

Lets just say that the quilt in question will probably be on the spaceship tomorrow, or perhaps conveying folks on it's own. I, for one heathen, will be glad it's on it's way.

Speaking of art hanging on walls, a few weeks ago I was in the house of an actual buyer of a small piece of mine. He bought it voluntarily, no pressure from me! I sold it with it's little hanging rod and package of 2 small brads and instructions on hanging, but that wasn't enough so he took it to his (OMG) Interior Designer to discuss framing. I had NO IDEA people were so challenged in their nail driving abilities that they needed a designer to handle it.) Well the Designer didn't want to nail two little brads into their expensively faux painted walls so hauled off the quiltlet to his Uber Expensive Framer who has, not a shop, but an 'atelier' down in Palm Beach. For god's sake. The Designer and the Framer collaborated and did double fancy mats and carved golden frames...and glass. The little quiltlet now hangs in their living room over some Frenchie Chintz chair and looks great. Of course one cannot see into the glass at all, the glare from all the ceiling high windows obscures the quilt completely but damn, the framing is one spectacular hunk of wood. And completely inappropriate. He wanted to show it off to me. I tried hard to smile, and think he was so happy with it he didn't notice my disbelief. ' No accounting'...', as they say. Postscript- he had the Interior Designer come over to drive the ONE nail- he was so proud there was only one needed now, but I hope it was a 50# size!