I stopped by Gildar Gallery to check out the William Stockman show on Friday night before meeting Kara and Jimmy. Stockman is master on the local art scene. He has had exhibits at MCA Denver and BMOCA along with a slew of locally prominent galleries. Paintings hang in the main room while a series of framed charcoal drawings are show in the rear room. This show spoke to me. I loved every piece in this show. Stockman’s minimalist abstracts are excellently executed. This is one show not to miss.
It has rained twenty-one of the last twenty-three days. Rain is in the forecast for this afternoon. I still have not turned on the sprinkler system or the swamp cooler. Many people are complaining about the rain but I welcome it. The area has been in a drought for many years so the rain is bringing much needed relief.
In other news, Kara, Jimmy and I hit the galleries on Friday night after dinner. Kara graciously picked up the tab as a thank you for gallery sitting. Our first stops were Hinterland and Rule. Rule has opened a second gallery in Marfa. The gallery directress extended an invitation to visit the gallery. More rain arrived as we piled into my car. Kara suggested we drive to Marfa as it was only thirteen hours away. We would buy toiletries and a change of clothes along the way. A stop at Ironton Gallery to see the new installation was a must before heading to Marfa. A torrential downpour started when we left Ironton. We came to our senses and decided to get an after gallery drink instead of driving to Marfa. It was an entertaining fantasy while it lasted. We had stimulating conversation over drinks and biscuits at a local British pub. Time seemed to fly by. The night soon drew to a close. I dropped Kara and Jimmy off at her gallery and headed home. It was a great way to start the holiday weekend.
Princess without a country (aka the woman who lives next door) pulled her white Mercedes SUV over to curb on Sunday to chat while I was pulling weeds in the garden. Princess announced they were moving to East Cherry Hills Village. I congratulated Princess on finally finding a new home after her three-year search. Inside I was doing a happy dance.
I really don’t know the distinction between East Cherry Hills Village and the rest of Cherry Hills Village. I’ve never heard anyone refer to East Cherry Hills Village. It’s always just Cherry Hills Village. I do know that Cherry Hills Village is populated with rich white people and multi-million dollar homes. It is one of the most affluent places in Colorado and the United States. I’m guessing that since Princess made the sure to say East Cherry Hills Village it is more prestigious than rest of the village.
I wish Princess and her family the best. We’ve been cordial neighbors, never really friends. I’ll will not miss her.
I snapped this picture of the Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts while walking to breakfast with my brother and sil on Saturday morning. I thought it was a cool building. As I approached the building I was reminded of the Sydney Opera House. The building may have been influenced by Frank Gehry’s architecture style.
The other side looks completely different.
The wedding invitation to my nephew’s wedding included an RSVP card with a stamped pre-addressed envelope. All one had to do is mark the appropriate box, place the card in the envelope and drop it in the mail. It’s a standard procedure for weddings in the U.S. My sixty-year-old sister couldn’t be bothered to do this simple task. She didn’t RSVP, didn’t send a card or a gift. WTF! No one expected her to attend or send a gift since she continues to claim financial hardship. An invitation was sent as a courtesy but my sister doesn’t have the common decency to reply. Yet she has time to post endless meaningless crap on Twitter every day. She’s an embarrassment to the family.
I had a fun-filled weekend even though I spent a lot of time on the road. It was great to see family at the wedding. The ceremony was Catholic without food and beverage (a term my nephew used to describe the service since communion was not given). The weekend was drama free and everything went off without a hitch. My nephew married a lovely young woman who has had a positive impact on his life. Her family was warm and welcoming and outnumbered the groom’s. It think the new couple will have a great life together. I drove home on Sunday morning.
Most people think the drive across Kansas is boring but one has to enjoy the beauty of the land. The great American landscape reminded me of a Diebenkorn abstract painting with its colorful geometric shapes. Recent rains left the land green with new growth while freshly plowed fields were still muddy. The native grasses waved in the wind. It was patchwork of greens, browns and tans. Soon I was in the middle of Denver’s urban sprawl and the relentless freeway traffic. Thankfully, most of the drive was pleasantly scenic.
I’m at my nephew’s wedding in Kansas City this weekend. Thankfully, my parents are not here. My mother refers to my nephew’s new wife as “that Mexican”. I couldn’t get my mother to understand that she’s an American of Mexican descent. Just as I am an American of German/French descent. Her family has been in this country for four generations. My father is not happy my nephew married outside of his race. Yet my father insists he’s not racists. There’s no hope for some people.