I was in the Hirschhorn today, and a man came up to me and began to ask me all sorts of questions that I could never answer, as I am not well-versed in art.
I like it. I like my explanations for it. I make it, sometimes.
But as to the juxtaposition of the elements of whatsit, I have no idea.
He then proceeded to paint my portrait. I asked him if he was an artist. He said maybe.
I kind of wish he was my grandfather.
But as I didn’t START the conversation…
