On our walk tonight, Bubba and I were strolling past the Leland Street Country club when we came upon one of our town’s mobile art installations: a car parked on the shoulder.
Bubba and I glanced at it as we walked by.
“I don’t think my mother would approve of that,” Bubba said. “I’m not sure I approve of it either.”
Bubba’s mother, a woman of Catholic faith who attended Mass daily while she lived and who believed the Catholic way was the way, was 1950’s white, middle-class proper. The Last Supper was probably ok; weird car art…not so much.
“Plus,” he continued, “it’s kind of creepy.”
I understood. The art-car is…disturbing.
“Then again, I’ve paid to go to Burning Man to see car-art,” he noted, his way of appreciating the presence of public art on the streets of our small town.
“Whaddya know,” I commented. “Several characters just offered their opinions on this art. One disapproved. One judged it creepy. One appreciated it.”
“Let’s take some pictures and I’ll blog about it.”
When we got home I looked at the pictures and thought, “how perfect for a post about various characters to be triggered by imagery—an art-car dominated by various decapitated heads—that captures the very idea of multiple characters.”