"Painting is just another way of keeping a diary." -Pablo Picasso
Day thirteen. Last day.
Well, of the semester.
I'm helping install the winning pieces from the annual county high school juried art show in the Lederer Gallery. Holy crapola. I had barely legible handwriting in high school (it's even worse now) and these kids are doing oil paintings and ceramic chess pieces (modeled after a battle between Mount Olympus and the Underworld) and portraits and digital art and let's not even talk about the effing CHAIR someone CARVED...well, frankly, it's all a bit upsetting.
"Wait. So this kid is like...fifteen."
"Yeah. I know. Insane."
But I'm helping install an exhibition, which is the main thing. There are several moments of panic, like when Cynthia and I hung up a huge banner-esque work and I almost fell off the ladder. Or when I almost fell off the ladder trying to hang up another giant canvas. Other than that, it was mostly okay.
"Hannah, can you please sweep the floor? This place is a mess."
I occasionally forget that I am first and foremost an intern.
As we leave the gallery, all the sickeningly-fantastic artwork beautifully installed, we say our summer goodbyes.
"Thanks for an amazing semester, Cynthia."
"Hey, I get a hug."
Bags and bundles and tools down. Hug.
"See you in the fall! Have a great summer!"
"Take care!"
See you in the fall. Have a great summer.
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