Photo by Victoria Holt.
"Nathan! There's a friend who wants to meet you!"
This is a conversation that's happened more than once. I'll reply:
"Well, tell them to come ride the 7 to Rainier Beach! At night!"
"Um, ha! I don't think that'll go over so well!"
I lovingly think of my route as my "office hours." Anyone can stop in, and everyone does. Office hours are designed to benefit students, and it's here the metaphor breaks down: I feel like I'm the one gaining the most, learning from what I see and hear. It's a terrific way to pass the time, listening to the world go by. Even better, though, are office hours where I'm not distracted by the fact of, you know, making sure people don't get killed….
Which brings us to gallery sitting. What better place is there to chat than in the safe, spacious company of art and sunlight wafting through the windows? I might answer by suggesting extremely expensive, thirty-ton roving industrial vehicles filled with the perfect mixture of mentally stable and unstable people and constant interruptions, but that's just me. Galleries aren't so bad as a runner-up.
Which brings us to May 20, when I'll be sitting at the gallery for the show I wrote up here, and which opened on the 4th. There's nothing urgent about this, really; it's a fun show, not a crucial one, and although the piece I have in it is personal to me, I do only have the one piece (the show is 33 "totally fake" record covers, each by a different artist).
Openings are about seeing and being seen, but this isn't an opening. Office hours are better. Everyone's already come and gone, and now that the kerfuffle's died down there's actually time to sit down and talk.
Stop in if you like!
700 1st (on Cherry, just east of 1st)
Saturday, 5/20, 2:30-4:30
"Nathan! There's a friend who wants to meet you!"
This is a conversation that's happened more than once. I'll reply:
"Well, tell them to come ride the 7 to Rainier Beach! At night!"
"Um, ha! I don't think that'll go over so well!"
I lovingly think of my route as my "office hours." Anyone can stop in, and everyone does. Office hours are designed to benefit students, and it's here the metaphor breaks down: I feel like I'm the one gaining the most, learning from what I see and hear. It's a terrific way to pass the time, listening to the world go by. Even better, though, are office hours where I'm not distracted by the fact of, you know, making sure people don't get killed….
Which brings us to gallery sitting. What better place is there to chat than in the safe, spacious company of art and sunlight wafting through the windows? I might answer by suggesting extremely expensive, thirty-ton roving industrial vehicles filled with the perfect mixture of mentally stable and unstable people and constant interruptions, but that's just me. Galleries aren't so bad as a runner-up.
Which brings us to May 20, when I'll be sitting at the gallery for the show I wrote up here, and which opened on the 4th. There's nothing urgent about this, really; it's a fun show, not a crucial one, and although the piece I have in it is personal to me, I do only have the one piece (the show is 33 "totally fake" record covers, each by a different artist).
Openings are about seeing and being seen, but this isn't an opening. Office hours are better. Everyone's already come and gone, and now that the kerfuffle's died down there's actually time to sit down and talk.
Stop in if you like!
700 1st (on Cherry, just east of 1st)
Saturday, 5/20, 2:30-4:30
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