Yesterday my kids went to The Art Institute of Chicago, a membership to that institution was one of my son's requests for Christmas last year. The two of them when to see - I think they said - the Jasper Johns exhibit. Or was it the John Jasper exhibit? I wouldn't know.
Today the two of them drove up to Milwaukee to see another art exhibit, somewhere up there, yah hey dere.
I enjoy flea markets and art by anybody if I think it's nice. I have never taken any kind of art appreciation course and the art museum bores me silly. At least it did when I last went, I'm pretty sure I was about 18 years old and we really don't need to discuss how long ago that was. Okay, we are definitely talking decades. Multiple decades.
I suppose what I am getting at is - are these my children? I mean, who taught them this stuff, guided them in this direction? I pushed both of my children in one direction, toward doing what would make them happy and getting the education behind them to do whatever that turned out to be.
I am incredibly proud of my kids but I am a little bewildered. They are turning out to be people who appreciate art and literature and things I know nothing about. It amazes me that both of them have this kind of bent, both tend to be more intellectual than not. More intellectual than I am, that is for sure. They are their own people, with opinions (oh my God the opinions) and tastes and likes and dislikes of their own. And they are very different from me and mine.
So for me the question becomes, where on earth did these kids come from?