“[…] Details are confusing. It is only by selection, by elimination, by emphasis, that we get at the real meaning of things.” (Georgia O’Keeffe)
Confusion, creativity, and craft beer.
I.
From an email, I quote: “In another cloth grocery bag, gather your supplies: pencil, lipstick (a plummy-red-orange-pink shade), two dimes (pre-1924 only), a notebook, a ball of string, a drink umbrella (American made), pen, a single 18-side die (cast from the horn of Satan), astronaut ice cream (I’d prefer from Apollo 17.5), three cherry bombs (Mexican made), and a bouquet of flowers. Don’t ask questions, it will all make sense after 5pm.”
Indeed, it mostly made sense, even before 5pm.
II.
Part of the sense making was a short-notice, wonderful trip to the Birmingham Museum of Art — www.artsbma.org/ — this afternoon, all courtesy of Ms. S. Even though I’ve been here a couple years, I’ve never spent any time in ‘down town’ Birmingham, so here we at least got to park walk a few blocks, and so on. The day was gorgeous.
The museum wasn’t that full of visitors. We had a couple hours available for moseying, and we began on the main floor, working through the Dutch artists to the French and English, around the end with the Americans, and back with some more European (English and continental) works, and finally the Renaissance and medieval Italians. Then it was up to the ‘third’ floor, with the various Asian rooms, the pre-Columbian and Native American collections, and the African art, though by that point we were running short on time.
Art can be so revitalizing.
III.
But after wandering room to room, getting up close and personal with some pieces and striking a more distant pose with others, one needs refreshment, and so a bit further south in Birmingham we went, to the really interesting Garage Cafe.
It features dozens of different beers, though mostly in bottles. I went for another offering — the milk stout — from the Huntsville brewery Straight to Ale. And it was quite smooth and refreshing. We sat outside, which some might call ‘out back’, but it’s more of a courtyard occupied by all sorts of … ‘junk’. Scrap. Water fountains and gas pumps, sinks/basins and decorative statues. A number of tables and chairs and benches for customers.
The clientele was, this afternoon, a seeming mixture of old locals and more hipsterish younger folks, though I won’t vouch for the accuracy of that description. Were it located mere blocks from where we live, it would be my new favorite arts-and-crafts-centric dive bar retreat, if that makes any sense.
What a wonderful discovery!
