June 2: Exhibitions

I got a little lost on my way to the gallery, as usual, but then all was well. I wandered between the opens spaces for about half an hour before Stella got there. 

The main show was an installation that included dried cacti that were placed poking out of a slightly unstable wooden floor, blown glass, and a policeman mannequin with his head in the ground, and a pear screwed into a light fixture. 

The following story is a metaphor for our current existence. 

I'm carefully walking around the show and attempting to not break anything: cacti, glass, uneven wood, etc. 

Then a girl with her face in her phone, not looking where she is going, is loudly clomping through the exhibition, and I see her about to step on one of the cacti and yell "WATCH OUT FOR THE...."

Her foot goes straight through the plant and rips it in half. 

JAW-DROP.


Cactus kicker, the staff person, and I all stare at each other in shock. 

She is immediately apologetic and the staff person does a good job of telling her it's okay. But here's the thing, I'm not sure that is something that can easily be replaced. The cacti are dried out for a few weeks and then they were specially embedded in the floor. 

However, this whole show was supposed to be based on Greek Eros so I walked over to the staff person and said, "Maybe the artist can pretend this was part of the show and the ripped cactus is supposed to represent a bursting of desire." 

He half smiled. 

I looked at some of the other galleries and there was a performance art piece that was happened in another space, some of which I liked and I also saw some paintings. 

Stella arrived and we caught up for a little bit but then they went out for dinner and I went back to my hostel. 

 Stella Selfie

Stella Selfie

However, for most of the time, I didn't really feel connected to the works I saw. I'm not saying the work wasn't good, I'm saying I didn't feel connected to it. There is nothing wrong with that. Different strokes for different folks but because of this, as I was sitting on the bus on the way back to the hostel, an existential crisis set in and it continued to wash over me for the next two weeks. 

Actually, it's not fully over yet.