...NOT WEAR MINISKIRTS! Seriously, people, I cannot stress this enough. Do not wear crazy age inappropriate gear. Even if you have a rockin' bod, it's wrong. Just wrong.
This view brought to you thanks to Mother Magoo (and my spanky new iPhone 4). MM leaned into my orbit and hissed, "Is it me or is there a 100-year-old-woman wearing a miniskirt? And does that grown man have a tiger backpack?" Yes and yes.
(Would it have killed her to wear some damn tights? I would have forgiven it if she had just worn some tights.)
This view made a crackin' end to our museum trip Sunday. We thought to ourselves, let's go to SFMOMA as a reward for unpacking the house and finally sleeping on US time (three fucking days it took us!). It will be a nice slow start back into our stateside routine, right? So we went to see the exhibit of paintings collected by Gertrude Stein and her family (Matisse, Picasso, and the Parisian Avant-Garde). We thought it would be a salon's worth of Picasso and Matisse. You know what it was? Not one, not two, but sixteen rooms! Museum rooms! Not regular rooms with windows and shit. There were roughly about a kabillion paintings and photographs. I thought my eyeballs would fall out and roll away, only to be squished by unmindful passersby-- there were also a matching kabillion museum zombies with the tour headsets.
Not exactly the relaxing salon viewing we thought we were getting. The flow from representational to cubism was stunning. My favorite quote was (I think) from Leo. He said they had their solid furniture to be a visual respite from the assault of the paintings. I love the idea of a paintings being so shocking to your senses you have to look away to breathe.
I love how contextually shocking this painting is. From representational "Ooh la la!" to "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah, what's wrong with her face? Why is it blue?"