When I was writing about the baby lambs at the farm, I forgot to mention that a llama has been living there this winter. This sight always makes me smile, and is less unsettling than an emu farm.
But, anyway, after catching up at work for several hours on this absolutely beautiful spring (yes, spring!) day, I stopped at Starbucks, then decided to drive down to Fair Park to visit the African American Art Museum. Eleven Dallas metroplex organizations have collaborated on a celebration of quilts this year. The African American Art Museum's contribution to the effort includes slave and Reconstruction era quilts, all the way up to contemporary story quilts. My favorite quilt was made of well-worn work clothes including striped overalls, denim, and tan workshirts. A quilt is, after all, a collage. It is a saving, sorting, choosing, combining, composing endeavor. It may be a group effort or individual. It may be intended as utilitarian or decorative. It may teach a lesson, or just soothe its viewer/user. It is above all wonderful expression of feminine creative energy. Some other women visiting the museum asked if I was a quilter. I answered, "I wish!" Still, I hope my art is related to the quilting tradition.
I always enjoy visiting the Museum, with its fantastic wood plank dome and curving staircase in the rotunda. This visit I again felt the lighting did not show off the exhibit pieces at their best. It was a dandy outing, though. I am inspired to visit more of the Quilt Mania venues. Next time I will skip the Starbucks. I have a dreadful headache in my eyebrows that makes me feel like Frankenstein's monster, but not the least bit like "Putting on the Ritz". Aaaargh.