The Edmondson Exhibit

We went out to Cheekwood to the Edmondson exhibit.  There are, maybe, ten pieces, but the other exhibit on the floor–of local high school kids–is really, really good, too, so it’s cool.

Still, I was hoping for more than one room.

The pieces are mostly statues but there is one headstone, which both the Butcher and I snickered over.  I mean, can you imagine that moment when you discover that your grandma’s headstone is an invaluable piece of art?  Sorry, Grandma, but we’re making a switch.

Anyway, the thing that stands out when you see the sculptures in person is how, while all the faces seem like mere suggestions and the clothes are all rock, stiff, all the women’s hair looks like you might touch it and find it soft.

It’s Those Little Things

–The Professor emailed me about this, but I didn’t see it.  Jagosaurus says most everything smart there is to say about it.  I would only add that when you run down Appalachia, you’re running down Dolly Parton.  So, think on that, America.

Jane Q. Public, how I wish I were you, tonight.  I must, however, walk to the grade school and back without dying before I walk around downtown looking for ghosts because I would be mortified if I died while on the ghost tour.  And I reiterate my question–are there no Fisk ghost stories?  Where are the people who know the Fisk ghost stories?

Just when you think penises aren’t getting their due

–My tomatoes have sprouted, too!  No peppers yet, though.  I kind of have a feeling it’s not going to be hot enough in here for them to sprout, which is okay.

–I think the tiny cat is looking better.  I could be wrong.  But I think the wet food has helped.

I’m hoping I can talk the Butcher into going to see the Edmunson exhibit at Cheekwood.  I’ve been to Cheekwood three times and every time they’ve not had any Edmunson pieces out and I have been sorely disappointed.  But now, if they’re going to have an exhibit of his pieces, they, by definition, have to have his pieces out!  Where I can see them!