With my wife out of the apartment and with the car, I woke up with no one but the cat as company and no way to travel but by foot. So I decided to make a field-trip to the High Museum and see what all the fuss was about. It had been getting good write-ups since its reopening and this would make my first visit ever. I made the decent walk from my place to the musuem, paid my $15 and promptly got misplaced. The strange segregational use of the elevators, one for the Andrew Wyeth show and the other for all other floors, got me confused. Eventually I go to the 3rd floor, where the modern art was. I'm getting more and more sceptical about "modernism" and art that needs concepts and explainations to be fully understood. There should be some inherently appealing aspects to a piece of art that compell a desire for further examination. But so much is just an a proof-of-concept exercise that often doesn't leave a final product worth much thought. I had more fun looking at the light-infused ceiling then some of the art. That being said, I did enjoy looking at the various and varied collections and the building in general. I should have taken along with my iPod the microphone, as I had loads of opinions I would have liked to taken home with me. But my short-term memory loss meant that all my deep thoughts were left behind when I left. I have marked in iCal when the museum has its free-admission days, so I hope to visit again soon.
Before heading home. I stopped by the Atlanta College of Art's gallery at the Wooduff. An interesting show that revolved much around Atlanta and processing the city on foot. Reflected on that since I seldom walk around the city, mainly drive from place to place.
While walking home I passed this and thought to myself...
"That motorcycle never crashes!"