3.31.12
What better way to end the month than with an Anish Kapoor?
2.24.12
Riding in the freight elevator at the High is like being carried from one floor to the other in a mechanical monster’s jaws.
Interesting editorial on the value placed on public art events versus art in a gallery or museum setting. Ch-ch-check it out.
Our Struth installation is included in Architectural Digest’s article “The Season’s Best Museum Shows”!
Woo yeah.
Here’s an excerpt from an interview with photographer Chip Simone where he talks about his photography and his show that just opened at the High, The Resonant Image. They included a number of the works from the show in the video as well, so it’s definitely worth checking out as a nice little preview.
If you’re around Atlanta, you should probably just drop what you’re doing and go see the show already- it’s pretty fantastic.
ps- See all those numbered pink sticky notes on the works during the clips of the install? Yep, the doing of yours truly. (I know I know, not the point but hey.)
Sometime recently, my GPS has begun to forget things. Very basic things really. Things all young GPSs learn right after installation.
After years of my peppy Aussie giving me perfectly adequate directions—though when he says “left” or “right” both directions do sound absolutely identical—and rescuing me from tight spots from time to time, I’ve started to worry about whether my ol’ Aussie is getting a bit senile.
You see, I was driving from home to work the other day and I wasn’t familiar with the route so I called upon my trusty Aussie. “Take me to the museum!” I declared. “G’day!” he replied, or at least that’s what I believe he would have said if he were programmed to. And off we went, speeding merrily along the smaller roads of my town on our way to the interstate. It was at one particular intersection when I heard it though.
On the GPS’ screen, it told me to: Turn left onto Iris Dr.
Simple enough.
But when my Aussie piped up to tell me what to do just in case, he told me to “turn left onto Iris Doctor!”
Surely, surely it was just a one time thing, right? Sadly not. For my Aussie, all drives are doctors now. And occasionally, streets are just “st” as if he stuttered just a bit.
I have to wonder if this memory loss has anything to do with the fact that at least once per trip, my GPS violently launches itself from its position on the windshield onto the floor or the gear shift. Perhaps my Aussie is simply tired of the continual traffic jams and wants no more than to end it all now.
So there I was at work today, second day on the job, taking notes on a pile of prints from the collection. I was studying each image intently, though it wasn’t necessary for the issue at hand and more just because I was nerding out over each spectacular shot. These images definitely deserve to be in a museum.
Anyway, I come across a lovely shot of trees where sunlight and shadow are playing across the whole scene, and I flip it over, record the accession number and the artist’s last name, Adams. I’m about to continue on to the next photograph in the stack when I take notice of a stamp on the back.
And realize I’m holding an Ansel Adams.
And freak out.
My entire job is a never-ending freak out concealed beneath a calm, collected demeanor. HOW AM I DOING SOMETHING THIS COOL. I don’t even believe it.
Oh and then this Dorothea Lange came along like it was no big deal:

…and the insane excitement is still continuing.
the Georgia Museum of Art is now open.
Yeah Roy Lichtenstein!
Little museum exhibit piece.
Dude, check out my ridiculously talented friend’s work. This is so well done.
So far, starting at 8 AM, I’ve heard:
-Yelling.
-Laughing.
-The sounds of heavy objects being...

DOES THIS PICTURE OF ME AS A KID ANSWER YOUR QUESTION?
I have always, essentially, been waiting. Waiting to become something else, waiting to be that person I always thought I was on the verge of...
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Atlanta, GA
I was here, and it was awesome. I will never cease to be jealous of Annie’s kickass guitar playing.