Sassy Pants Art: Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art

I have been uber bogged down with obligations. (Blech.) Life tends to get in the way of my passions-and one of my passions is this blog/site, while another is observing amazing art.

Enough is enough. Time for some fun-and time to observe life/art in a new way-a sassy way.

Hey, “Eyebrows”. I mean…seriously. Even back then they had scissors and ways to bleach hair. Do something about it.

“A ticked-off cat”. I know this. I feel this. I’ve seen this. Life is art.

Mr. Abs: “Yes, I do Paleo. Yes, I do Crossfit. Yes, I wear coolouts. Yes, I shave my head into a weird pony tail. Why do you ask?”
Me: “Um. No reason at all. You look…awesome?”

Lady on the left: “Don’t pretend you were ‘caught’ in this pose. Get some friggin’ clothes on.”
Lady on the right: “All I could find was this 1200 thread count Egyptian cotton sheet. Geesh. Don’t be such a prude. I’m just as God made me.”

Oh! That’s where I left it! My trusty old, Indiana Jones backpack. I was hankering for my PB & J, my orange and thermos of milk…

That’s all the sass I will expose you to today. And, since I’ve deprived you for almost a week of my sass-I hope you can handle it.

Am I the only one that ever feels this way in an art museum?

Sunday Culture and a little weirdness

Ah…Kansas City-you have done it again. You successfully avoided being named both “Possum Trot” and “Rabbitville”, progressed past just being a cow town and into a cultural mecca. However, I can still wear cowboy boots and not be judged (hint, hint New York).

I cannot deny my love for you.

I shucked my heels and wore sensible flats this time, knowing I would be at the Nelson-Atkins Museum forever. My first stop-this lovely Eames chair. Can a chair be more pure, more beautiful, more simple? Sure, you could have some fancy throne covered in lambs wool and overstuffed to the gills. And you may argue that it is indeed more comfortable. And, you might be right.

But, I would still choose this chair every time.

Turning the corner, I ran smack dab into this Jackson Pollock painting. Be still my coffee-beating heart. I have loved this artist since my first encounter with his work and have not lost my affection yet.

I see a wolf and a lady. What do you see?

This painting had my attention for a solid 15 minutes. The vibrant colors were gorgeous and the darkening sky was beautifully ominous. Some amazingly talented human, with only a brush and some oil paint created this on a white canvas.

I’m happy if I can draw a straight line.

This Subodh Gupta Egg was made exclusively of silver utensils and objects-and signifies the new India.

For some unknown reason, I was drawn to it. I’m a girl. I like shiny things.

I call this one, “Fancy Peas”. It was untitled, so I took liberties with it. Hope that’s alright with Mr. Alexander Ross. (Mr. Ross, maybe you should name your pieces and morons like me wouldn’t take liberties.)

This, of course, reminded me of a cat-a Native American cat. Possibly of the KittenMeow tribe.
(Brad Kahlhamer: Bowery Nation)

I saved the best for last. This installation-“Chromoplastic Mural” by Luis Tomasello (who was 96 at the time) was bold and unique, and the perfect resting spot for my little feet.

The floor is an acceptable place to hang out in a museum, right?

A “Why?” from a viewer at the K.C. Museum

I enjoy viewing sculptures, paintings and anything else that has to do with art. However, every once in awhile, I am left scratching my head–but doing it in a very cool manner so that others with hipster skinny ties and black horn rimmed sunglasses don’t whisper to their equally hip girlfriend, “She doesn’t get it, does she?”.

I was ecstatic when my brother asked me to join him at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City.

We enjoyed the grandness of the museum…

…the restaurant which we wanted to partake of, but ran out of time….

…and the chinese temple that’s been displayed for over 80 years.

We saw the new, the not so new and the ancient. I enjoyed every sculpture, painting and “interpretation” of life. When it comes to art, I often don’t ask “why”.

Heck, I know I sometimes can’t answer the “why” behind my own art.

But, seriously-Why?