Archive for June, 2015

I’ll Pay

My nephew and his girlfriend left yesterday. They packed a lot into four days. I found it odd that every time a lunch or dinner check arrived my nephew would thank me for paying for the meal. He never once offered to pick up a tab yet he had plenty of money to buy pot, shoes and clothes. I would have declined his offer but it would have been nice to see him offer to help pay. At least he thanked me.

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House Guests

My twenty-one-year-old nephew and his nineteen-year-old girlfriend are visiting for a few days. Their first tourist activity was to visit a marijuana dispensary. Welcome to Colorado. Thanks for buying highly-taxed marijuana products which further fuels the booming local economy.

The next stop was Cherry Creek Mall for watch shopping. As we were leaving Tiffany, without a purchase, the sound of hail on the skylights became almost deafening. The next stop was Anthropologie. After a few minutes in the store, a sales assistant informed us the mall was being evacuated. We had to go to one of the tornado shelters in the mall. The next half hour was spent in a tornado shelter with about a hundred other shoppers and mall employees.

It looked like it had snowed when we left the mall. Hail was everywhere. Trees were defoliated. Streets were flooded. Traffic lights were blinking red leading to horrendous traffic jams. Cherry Creek had overflowed its banks flooding the bike path. Welcome to Colorado. The land of blizzards, violent hail storms, tornados and three hundred days of sunshine.

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Monday Blues


I’m not in the mood to work today. I was on the go all weekend. I think I’m having the after the party blues. I met a nice man yesterday at the Wrangler. A handsome, age appropriate guy with beautiful blue eyes. He lives in Kansas City and has a long-time boyfriend in France. He was nice to hang out with but nothing will come of it.

The garden picture has nothing to do with the post. I just thought it was interesting. I love the structure of the hen and chicks.

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I hit a few galleries on Friday night. Charles Livingston has a great show at Pirate. There’s also an interesting show at Core. I stopped in to see Kara. I snapped this picture across the street. The light seemed to set an interesting mood. Kara and I had a great conversation. I had planned to go Bearracuda to kickoff Pridefest. I left the gallery at 11. There was still a line to get in so I headed home.

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The Art

A few weeks ago I ran into Perry. She’s an art consultant I’ve known for years. We traded contact info and agreed to get together for art openings.

Last night, Perry and I had dinner at a dive Mexican restaurant before the opening at Space Gallery. Space has a reputation for having a stable of very talented artists and for stunning, jaw-dropping exhibits. The current show continues that trend. I loved almost every piece in this show but John Wood’s abstract paintings were my favorites.

Perry made numerous introduction. The gallery director took us down to the basement to see some smaller works that did not make it into to show. Billy, another art consultant and gym pal, was there along with Jessica, a transgendered artist and fixture on the local art scene. Billy told us to check out the art in The ART, a new boutique hotel, which opened on Wednesday next to the DAM.

Perry and I stopped at The Art on the way home. The Art did not disappoint. There’s a Leo Villareal light installation in the ceiling of the porte cochere. A Sol LeWitt hangs in the entrance. A huge Ed Ruscha adorns a wall in the reception area. The art collection also includes Clyfford Still, Kiki Smith, Phil Bender, Debra Butterfield, Jim Dine, Sam Frances, Claes Oldenbug, Betty Woodman and John Baldessari. The hotel is beautifully designed and is destined to be an instant local treasure.

My normally boring Thursday night turned into great night out and a start to a promising weekend.

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At Home Again

My mother was discharged from the nursing home/rehab center today. My father thinks he can care for her. My parents are eighty-eight. My father had to be taught how to transfer my mother from a wheelchair to a bed or the toilet. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

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Botanical Battle

It’s ice plant versus sedum. Who will win the garden battle of these botanical brutes?
Here’s the garden monster:

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