Winter Garden Art Festival

Winter Garden's little Art Festival is this weekend, so I headed out this morning to get a little bit of culture in my soul. It's the smallest of the Winter Garden festivals, easily covered in a couple of hours, including coming back and forth to my house on the scooter, and as with all of these things, the art is a mixed bag -- some people clearly going for the Pretentious Art Museum look, some people going for the Relaxing Nature Look, some people going for the Huh look, some people going for the Steampunk look ("And now that I know what that is, I'm no longer insulted," confided the artist, Barbara Foley, who creates some really amazing steampunk jewelry out of various bits and pieces of this and that, all without initially knowing what steampunk is, although she cheered up after hearing the name "Jules Verne" in association with it - "I thought, ok, well, that's ok.") some people going for the Funky look, some people spray painting and making me sneeze, local artist turning writer Christian Slade and local writer Marc Franco, who were signing books at the Here Be Dragons bookstore, with Marc Franco in a robot suit, which was pretty awesome. And one person creating a stunningly beautiful necklace that my mother would love for only $325, which is why my mother isn't getting it. Sigh. And one store claiming to sell fresh, homemade fudge, only to announce, once I entered, that the fudge wasn't quite ready yet. (This was their first weekend to be open, and, well, it showed, although other things gave me some hope for their future.) Double sigh. No one should lie to me about fudge. I mean, we're talking fudge here. Important matters.

Or, to sum up, culture=1, fudge=0, scooter=-1; I keep forgetting how much I hate taking that thing around locally, although it's the only practical method for getting me to Winter Garden's festivals. Grr. Oh well. If I head back tomorrow I'll know not to expect fudge.

Edited to addKnew fatigue was causing me to forget something: I came home to find two guys rather loudly dismantling an old TV for parts just on the edge of the front lawn -- turned out it was the neighbor's broken TV (and since it was one of those now "ancient" full tube ones I could immediately tell it wasn't a valuable item.) I had something profound to say about creation and destruction, but....well. See, no fudge, no profound thoughts. You can all understand that, I think.

Oh, and while we're talking about art

This comic was sent my way by various alert readers; the Jack Kirby riff cracked me up.

Ok, back to zonking out now. You'd think a two and a half hour nap would have done it.