It's all a blur, these days. I have so many irons in the fire, it's no wonder that I don't spontaneously combust.
After teaching a freshman-level art appreciation class for six years, I've been invited to each an upper-division, art-history class.
So next fall, I'll be lecturing on Neoclassicism, Romanticism and Impressionism, 19th century art. In. Depth. No more glossing over topics and throwing out sound bites. Of course, it's going to be a whole shit-pot full of work, but I'm fine with that. Lately, I've been all about art.
I've been reading text books and flipping through art picture books obsessively. And soon I'm going to get a huge dose of art in that we're going to Washington D.C.
Bill's got a conference for the National Science Foundation grant he and his team won. He goes every year, this time Margaret and I are tagging along.
I went to grad school a mere three hours from D.C. and spent many a weekend touring the museums and galleries. But it's been years, many, many, way too many, so I'm very excited.
And ever since our trip to the Denver Art Museum in February, Margaret has been all about going to museums. Plus our hotel is a block away from the national zoo and they have a baby panda there, so she's stoked.
Gooooo Art! (Yeah, my dork status remains intact.)