Museums and Memories

These times are getting more precious, more rare, more memorable, I kept telling myself today. Sarah had honored me by inviting me to join her and her friend, Joy, to visit the American Visionary Arts Museum in Baltimore. Joel, who also loves art, tagged along and, despite several times trying to interact with noninteractive pieces, made a fine companion. I didn't see too many mother-daughter combos down there today, let alone mother-daughter-friend-li'l bro' quartets.

We left right after church, picked up Joy, ate pizza at Serpico's in Perry Hall (not worth a review), and zipped downtown. All right, maybe zipped is the wrong word. We zigged and zagged until we were lost. I hate that. I used to pride myself on how well I could get around the city; I did live on 33rd Street for a year in college. (That old apartment house has been demolished and replaced with Hopkins buildings. )

God was everywhere. Every exhibit--even the Four Days of Creation quilt done by a female rabbi that overemphazed sabbath--spoke of His handiwork. Even the ones who wrote hocuspocusfengshuiMotherNaturelovethewomb crap next to their art could not cover the louder message: This art started with God. No one could bestow such creativity unless He had it first.

Among the jaw-dropping pieces that I won't soon forget:

-Matchstick sculptures. One of the sculptures features a 4 foot guy holding a violin case on his arm. The whole thing is done with matchsticks, food coloring, and glue.

- Yarn "sculptures" done by a Down Syndrome woman who was deaf and mute. She took two special items, cocooned them in yarn, and kept wrapping and wrapping yarn and fabric around them till she had made sculptures. I wondered what she was thinking and feeling and how she communed with the Lord in her silent world filled with colorful yarn and soft material.

-Pencil-tip sculptures. I've never seen this in my life. Twenty-six little pencils (stubs, really) lined up in a glass case ; the artist had used nothing but a razor and sewing needle to carve the alphabet. You had to use a magnifying glass to see the letters. He had other pencil-tip sculptures as well, but since I'm such an alphabet lover, this one intrigued me the most. The pencils were no longer than my pinky finger .

-A Bad Habits quilt (?) in mixed media. The artist had drawn and painted (I think) and used fabric to show many scenes of people practicing different bad habits: procrastination, oogling, borrowing money. Most art doesn't make me laugh aloud, but this one did. Truly whimsical. I would like to do one in similar fashion with good habits, but am not at all confident it'd have the same effect.

Behind the museum is a little courtyard witha wildflower garden and some water-spitting stone heads in front of a wood bench. Attached to the bench is a journal on a cord. The message inside invites you to write anything: it may be used in whole or in part by the Foundation that built the resting spot. I wrote "If you were to die today, do you know where you'd go? Heaven and hell are your only two choices." And I went on to write the message of salvation and eternal life in one paragraph, and signed off with First John 1:9 and Ephesians 2:8 and 9. I pray it's read, not skimmed over.

Sunday afternoon with Sarah, Joel, and Joy. Masterpieces themselves, I simply admired and gave thanks to God.