This is going to be one of those rather random posts where I ramble on about various things without a particular end in mind so bear with me, or simply refrain from clicking
Paul likes art. I had no idea. We spent all of dinner two nights ago talking art after he pointed at the lamp and said “Damien Hirst?” and I said, “you know art?” And he said, “not really” and I replied, “me neither,” but then the entire conversation from then on revolved around art. Art we liked, art we abhorred, art we didn’t understand (but were too ashamed to admit it), art we liked for the imagery, art we liked for its provenance. We made some far off plans to visit the museums. He’s been to so many! Everywhere he goes he makes it a point to visit them. Kind of like my father, oddly enough. I got excited, I said “Paris!” And he said, “Skip Paris, I’ll take you to Madrid. You’ll love Madrid. It’s where all the real art is, and it’s not holed up in museums, it’s everywhere. There are tourists, but not so many tourists as the Lourve”
Isn’t it wonderful when you discover something new about the person you’re with, just when you least expect it? This is what keeps relationships going. New discoveries, new common interests, new things to talk about and laugh about and argue about.
The pictures, the pictures have nothing to do with this post. But readers these days, many of you, you’re all very visual creatures, you thrive on the colours and the lines and the imagery, how these little snapshots will give you a glimpse into the lives of others. A post with no pictures will not be read (my stat counter told me so). So I’ve tricked you! Ah ha!
But you know what’s funny? My favourite part about art isn’t the picture you see in front of you, but the untold story of the painters and the people behind it. The history at the time of its creation, society, politics, culture, the mood and emotions of the artists, the people who owned it before you… It’s called provenance (funnily enough, provenance is also what makes vintage things expensive, otherwise they’d just be considered old and moldy). So that’s what fascinates me about art (it fuels the kaypoh in me, if you will). The picture? The picture is secondary, it is the outcome of the process. Art, like life, is a journey – it’s not about the end destination.
My sincerest apologies, I couldn’t help myself.
But since you’ve been so kind as to bear with my random rambles, here’s a little history behind the pictures: Pebs was hanging out with us on the front porch one day, just watching the world go by. She’s without a doubt the best dog in the world :) La Mer has put together a lovely evening of treats and eats entitled A Beautiful Journey which I’m really looking forward to checking out with Charme. They really know how to make a girl feel special! The hand delivered invite came encased in a lovely leather travel wallet – just what I need too :) Yesterday I stumbled upon the most beautiful gold glamazon dress over on Wispiration, and I just had to build an entire board around it on tumblr.
And there you have it folks, the end of a rather random ramble about nothing in particular. Have a happy weekend friends!