Art lives in that kind of white, crystalline light. It doesn’t just come alive; it…
Paying to Eat
The grocery store was the second-to-last stop. We had picked up a prescription at Walmart, had dinner at Lin’s Hibachi Grill and were headed to Bomboy’s for ice cream. A normal group of errands on a normal summer Friday evening. My Dear One said there was a worthy...
Šeima Means Family 2: The Determination of Memory
Most of us choose what to remember. We cherish feelings illuminated through rose-colored glasses and forget the uncomfortable; sometimes we nurse the grievances and grudges that give us our sense of self. In any case, the content and color of the past, the limning of...
The Dallas-Austin Axis 3: Great Reading
Museum labels—you know, those notes posted next to works of art? What’s not to dislike. More often than not they are written in that impenetrable artspeak (of which curators and critics are so enamored) and filled with “facts” and observations the writer believes are...
A Mid-West Triangle 3: Designed but not Intelligent
I was shocked when we pulled up to the Creation Museum in Petersburg, Kentucky. The place was mobbed. We had to search for a parking place. Somewhere I had read that they had upped the entertainment value by installing a zipline; apparently attendance was not reaching...