Hi Ho Cherrio!
(Please ignore the clutter. It's a lovely armoire/computer desk under all that crap.) Shhhh...
Don't frighten him.
This is a picture of Andy building his very own blog. I'm so proud!
Rather infamous as a non-communicator, from a legedarily uncommunicative family, Andy seems to be taking a baby step towards full disclosure. And that might have just a teensy weensy something to do with me! Yay!
I won't link to it just yet. It's still so very new. Also? He's way smarter than I in several areas, including: German, Dada, manifestos, history, and irony.
This is readily apparent in his first post, which is based on the Dada Manifesto. To which he never makes reference.
I wouldn't have known that, had he not told me. Would you?
I was thinking about how different his blog will be from mine, as I walked around the house today, and I noticed something. The art all over our house is mostly mine. I'm very VERY attached to it. Whenever I move into a new place, the first thing I do is put the pictures up. THEN, the furniture. He does have, however, one particular print that illustrates just how different our approaches to life and art are. It's quite striking. I took a bunch of pictures of the art, and stuck it over in Flickr if you're interested. (Click on one of my picures over there in the Flickr Badge, and then click on my photo stream.) It's pretty amusing, at least to me.
And you know, despite the vast chasm that separates us stylistically, we're a pretty good team. For instance, this morning, both Charlotte and Simon were crying hysterically while they needed to be getting dressed and eating because it was my morning to drive the carpool and I wasn't going to be late again consarnit!!! I was on the verge of becoming a news item. "Area mother spontaneously combusts! Children still crying!" But Andy took over, as sleepy and sick as he was, and kept me from pulling out my last nerve and flossing my teeth with it.
He's a cheeky monkey, but I love him!
posted by grudge girl at 12:47 PM
7 Comments:
Man, he looks familiar. I'm *sure* I don't know him, but still.
It's funny; most people *do* have very different taste in art but that's the one area where Pete and I are nearly exactly alike. We both love abstract art (*good* abstract, like Kandinsky) and we both prefer photography over most paint media. And our favorite artist is Pete's brother, who is incredibly talented and if he would get his act together he could have a gallery show and he'd be a HUGE hit!
You need to explain that not only is your so-called art predominant in our domicile, but the one print I'm afforded is hidden away behind a corner where no one could ever possibly see it.
My so-called art?! You like the buxom mermaids and seductresses as much as I do. So you can just quit frontin'.
And also? WhatEVER! As IF you even came into this relationship with more than one thing to hang on the wall. Pfah.
And that damn, depressing print of yours is likely to scar the children. You should be glad it's up at all.
Go drink some absinthe with your girlfriend.
Miss Fitty that is too funny. Well, I know you didn't date him! He wasn't in band. HEE!
He worked in the coffee shop at IUPUI for a long time. Lots of people ran into him there.
He also worked at the POLIS center there.
He's from Greenwood and went to Center Grove.
You're very lucky you and Pete agree. As you can see from the above exchange. And also, you have an artist in the family?!!! ACK! That's awesome! (I like Kandinsky too. GORgeous.)
p.s. Honey? Didn't you say something in your wedding vows about appreciating my aesthetics, and my approach to life as the quest for beauty? Didn't you? DIDN'T YOU?!
I thought so.
Dude, nothing like taking it all to the next level. I have a framed repro of Waterhouse's Circe Invidiosa, and I can see that some of our tastes are similar.
Kandinsky rocks, and I like Klimt, but am tired of the Kiss. I also like Andy's depressing print.
I have now officially lost sight of whatever I was going to comment. Sorry.
I would just like to hang something -- anything -- on the walls. Artwork, pictures of children, a mirror, a sconce. Five years, we've lived here, and I can count on one hand the number of things we've hung on the walls ourselves.
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