Over here in Room 112 at the Harbor Winds Hotel in Sheboygan. Hotel conjures up the image of a sort of swank place, at least in my mind, but the Harbor Winds isn't swank, it's regular. Nice, but regular. The room has 2 double beds, a desk, easy chair, TV on an armoire, a fridge, microwave, and coffee pot. Of course, a sink, tub, and toilet. I don't remember how we found this place, I'm sure it was Lala searching the 'net, but this is the only place we've stayed on our little end of winter run-aways and I love it. It's not too expensive, it's right on the riverwalk, has free internet and breakfast. It's also within walking distance of lots of places so we can park our cars when we arrive and walk wherever we want to go although yesterday we drove out to Kohler to see the Design Center and then we stopped at the JMKohler Art Center a few blocks from here. There were amazing things to see at both places; toilets galore as well as sinks and showers and bathtubs with a bit of history thrown in at the Design Center, and in the Art Center there was an exhibit of naive paintings, kinda Grandma Moses-ish by Ernest Hupeden whose art has only recently come to light and the piece-de-resistance as far as Lala and I are concerned was the Healing Machine of Emery Blagdon.
The Healing Machine was a revelation. Mr. Blagdon believed that the electricity in the Earth had healing properties so he gathered baling and copper wire, metal cans and lids, paint, cardboard, aluminum foil and minerals and created "pretties" that he gathered in a shed he called the Healing Machine. It's amazing and so intricate... there aren't words. In the description it said that his father tatted so that's the way he used the wires in lots of cases. It's amazing, you should see it. It'll be there until January 2014 so you have plenty of time.
March 23--Paul Gauguin, Two Women. Mother and daughter sit there still, expressionless. You can see that the mother shields her daughter. She's implacable, unmoved by the blandishments of the man. She holds her ground. The daughter is afraid. You see it in her eyes and the way she slides behind her mother. He lost this battle, I know he did.
I have a hard time writing from Paul Gauguin's works because I disapprove so strongly of him. No, I don't know he was naughty but if you look at the eyes of the women in his paintings you can see that they weren't at all enthusiastic about posing for him. Tsk, bad Paul G. Okay, I'm going to get dressed and take a walk before breakfast. Toodles.