in which i have a cartoon moment
A few notes in a general “this is what’s been happening in my life” vein.
This week is the Ann Arbor Art Fair. I’ve never been before, which if you live in southern Michigan and consider yourself a well-rounded person is like saying that you’re an English major and have never read Jane Austen. Why, you may ask, is the Ann Arbor Art Fair such a big deal? Because, I will answer, it is a HUGE art fair. It has been voted best art fair in the country for I-don’t-know-how-many years, and it takes up literally more blocks than I can count. Basically, I woke up yesterday morning, got on my bike to ride to work, and found my usual commute transformed into absolute, art-tastic mayhem. There’s good art, bad art, funny art, imitative art, faux-serious (or not?) absurdist art, “crafty” (another word for “bad”) art, art made out of neon signs, scrap metal, feathers, wax, art made to look like robots, butterflies, and enormous body parts, art that costs five dollars and art that costs five thousand dollars.
The local stores get into it, too. Most stores, including Ann Arbor’s many many used books stores, have stands outside with hugely discounted prices. Urban Outfitters has a tent full of shirts that cost a buck. I tried to get into that tent, but a girl elbowed me in the stomach and I had to duck to avoid a flying hanger. My favorite block, though, is the Non-Profit block, where various organizations set up booths to promote themselves. Not for their classiness or my increased awareness do I enjoy this block, but for its sheer range of members. Every religious, political, physical, or psychological issue that you can think of has a group representing it on that block. My favorites are the Mars tent (where apparently you give money to support going to Mars?), the Reconstructionist Judaism tent (their shirts say “Jesus Made Me Kosher”), and the Michigan Nudist tent (needless to say, they weren’t wearing shirts).
My association with the Art Fair has not been purely observational - I spent many hours yesterday out in the hot, hot sun making slime at the Ann Arbor Hands-On Museum’s table in the Imagination Station (toot toot! Alll Abooooooard!) I had fun doing it, although I must say that slime loses its appeal after hour three. We’ll find out whether it regains any attraction on day two.
Also, I slipped on a banana peel in the Diag. At the time I was just glad I managed to stay upright, but looking back on it, I should’ve instantly looked around to see if pianos or anvils had fallen out of the sky, anyone was holding a sign that said “Uh-oh!,” or there was a guy with a handlebar mustache and a ten-gallon hat hiding behind a tree, whispering “Be vewy vewy qwiet. I’m hunting wabbits.”
This week is the Ann Arbor Art Fair. I’ve never been before, which if you live in southern Michigan and consider yourself a well-rounded person is like saying that you’re an English major and have never read Jane Austen. Why, you may ask, is the Ann Arbor Art Fair such a big deal? Because, I will answer, it is a HUGE art fair. It has been voted best art fair in the country for I-don’t-know-how-many years, and it takes up literally more blocks than I can count. Basically, I woke up yesterday morning, got on my bike to ride to work, and found my usual commute transformed into absolute, art-tastic mayhem. There’s good art, bad art, funny art, imitative art, faux-serious (or not?) absurdist art, “crafty” (another word for “bad”) art, art made out of neon signs, scrap metal, feathers, wax, art made to look like robots, butterflies, and enormous body parts, art that costs five dollars and art that costs five thousand dollars.
The local stores get into it, too. Most stores, including Ann Arbor’s many many used books stores, have stands outside with hugely discounted prices. Urban Outfitters has a tent full of shirts that cost a buck. I tried to get into that tent, but a girl elbowed me in the stomach and I had to duck to avoid a flying hanger. My favorite block, though, is the Non-Profit block, where various organizations set up booths to promote themselves. Not for their classiness or my increased awareness do I enjoy this block, but for its sheer range of members. Every religious, political, physical, or psychological issue that you can think of has a group representing it on that block. My favorites are the Mars tent (where apparently you give money to support going to Mars?), the Reconstructionist Judaism tent (their shirts say “Jesus Made Me Kosher”), and the Michigan Nudist tent (needless to say, they weren’t wearing shirts).
My association with the Art Fair has not been purely observational - I spent many hours yesterday out in the hot, hot sun making slime at the Ann Arbor Hands-On Museum’s table in the Imagination Station (toot toot! Alll Abooooooard!) I had fun doing it, although I must say that slime loses its appeal after hour three. We’ll find out whether it regains any attraction on day two.
Also, I slipped on a banana peel in the Diag. At the time I was just glad I managed to stay upright, but looking back on it, I should’ve instantly looked around to see if pianos or anvils had fallen out of the sky, anyone was holding a sign that said “Uh-oh!,” or there was a guy with a handlebar mustache and a ten-gallon hat hiding behind a tree, whispering “Be vewy vewy qwiet. I’m hunting wabbits.”