In the Eye of the Beholder

When we were children, my parents took us often to the Los Angeles County Museums in Exposition Park, which at that time were the Museum of Natural History and the Museum of Science and Industry. Admission was free, and it was a convenient way for my folks, who were very careful with their money, to offer us an excursion that didn’t cost anything except the gas to drive 10 minutes down the freeway and was educational as well.

Before the Museum of Art was built in the 1960s on Wilshire Blvd, the art collection was mounted on the walls and in galleries at the Museum of Natural History. I loved looking at the paintings.

One time Dad and I were in one the galleries, where a sculpture made of different kinds of metal things welded together, including old car parts, was on display. My dad, who worked as a mechanic for the LA Department of Water and Power, had strong opinions about stuff, and he had an opinion about this sculpture.

“What a piece of junk,” he said. And not very quietly either.

I think from that point on I loved looking at metal art that was created from other “stuff.”

There is some public metal art, a small herd of horses, on the lawn of the bank in town that I really like. 

But because it is "in the eye of the beholder," a dear man who we attended church with before he died, and who bred quarter horses to a high standard, hated them and thought they were... JUNK!!

We have some metal art, a cute pair of skateboarders created from

 spark plugs, bolts, washers, and other bits.

I don’t normally go to craft sales, but the week before Christmas, I noticed a sign that one was being held at a church I drive by on the way home. On a whim, I stopped in and saw Teapot Man (or maybe Teapot Woman). I wanted Teapot Man but given that I am very tight with my money, and have been known to talk myself out of a 25-cent book at the thrift store, I left without him. I went home and told Richard about him and he said, “You work hard for your money. If you like it, go back and get it.”

So I did.

And he gives me pleasure every time I look at him.