Driving cross town on a cold rainy night to an art exhibition wondering what I will see. Red taillights and yellow headlights are highlighted in every raindrop racing down my windshield. Turning onto a quieter street lined with old elm trees and grand old homes, images of people wrapped in afghans and family quilts stir in my head. The house second from the corner of Garfield and Commonwealth has a large watercolor hanging across from their sofa. I always slow here to take a look, even though I cannot really see any detail of this painting. Only the wide mat tells me it's medium. Lamps and art work are my interest while driving through this part of town at night. The shapes of lampshades fascinate me.
Pulling into the university's parking lot, I see people rushing to get in out of the rain. Quite a crowd for an art exhibit. Dead artists seem to draw larger crowds. This particular artist taught at the university, her paintings were there on loan from local collectors. People are hanging up wet coats on wood hangers and getting glasses of wine (in actual glasses) to view the artwork. A touch of class to honor the artist and her works. If she were still alive it would be plastic cups and paper plates. A few people are looking at the art, most are reacquainting themselves with neighbors and club members they normally avoid.
Squeezing by people, I make my way from one work to another. At the exhibition before this one only the artist was here. Paper cups and apple cider for that artist. Being an artist has its ups and downs.
