Boone, part two

But wait, there’s more! At the same time that “STUFF” was going on, there was more stuff. Some of it was recycled. Some of it was really imaginative. Some of it was really weird. But most of it made me think and wonder and see the world in a different way, and that is the purpose of art.

I apologize for the fuzzy pictures. It is a smidge dark in there.

Look – a “lawn chair”.

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Closer. Astroturf on an old metal chair. I’m pretty sure nobody has ever sat on this.
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In the same area. I don’t think it does anything except look like it does something.
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This artist has taken the old family tablecloth, with its tears and stains from years of use, and highlighted the damaged parts by embroidering them.

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Closer view of the top.
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A view of the edge.
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I don’t know what this is. I like it though. People, either jumping through the floor or falling through it. They are carved wood, and larger than life size.
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Closer.
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Behind that. Something about large photographs of areas with overlays held in front of what the area looked like a hundred years ago.
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I thought this was cool. Of course it looks better without the glare from the glass. Day for night, anyone?
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A photo of a flag being put up in Antarctica, I think. But the guy on the right is familiar…
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Oh yeah, it’s Death.
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We went down a different way to get to another floor and ended up in the service area. This wasn’t part of the regular exhibit, but I like it.
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Just the head.
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In another area. It reminds me of a mandala, but not.
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Outside the gallery, down the street, is a statue sitting on a bench. While cool looking, it takes up half of the bench so it defeats the purpose of the bench. I found out later why the flowers were there – it was in honor of Earl Scruggs, who had died recently. The statue is of him. He was born in North Carolina and was a popular bluegrass musician. When we came back to this corner there were hundreds of flowers here.
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I’m a little confused because Earl Scruggs is known for banjo, not guitar, but there you go.

Poem – Be bread.

How is bread made?

How much are we like bread?

We have yeast in us.

We are made from elements from the earth.

All that our mothers ate,
all that we eat, makes up our bodies.

Yet there is more.

Bread has to rise. Once all the ingredients are there it has to wait.
It has to sit still and grow.

Then it gets punched down, kneaded,

And then it rests again.

And punched down, kneaded.

And then it gets baked,
put into the furnace, the cauldron,
to transform it
into its true nature, it’s purpose.

Be bread.

Bread that doesn’t sit and wait,
isn’t pushed down, isn’t challenged,

isn’t heated up in the stove of conflict

Isn’t bread,
isn’t of any use to anybody.

Especially itself.

Be bread.