Art: I can dig it!

People are funny. They want to talk about art and all things artistic by dissecting it, pulling it apart, looking for hidden meaning, trying to understand the artist's "intent" and all sorts of nonsense. But for me – and yes, I realize I'm young and might not understand – I just dig it.

I dig it. Whatever it is, I'm going to dig it. I want to enjoy the experience, and just be with the art. I don't want to analyze it beyond enjoyment; I refuse to lose the pleasure of the moment of first experience.

And check it out, can you blame me? Here I am, just a few months old and my art cherry is getting popped on a sunny day at the SAM Sculpture Park. And like always, I rocked that park like an all-star. You see me? There I am, hanging in front of these giant metal curves and someone wants to attribute meaning to them? Go for it, but not me. I just sit, and dig it.

I sit. I stay. I dig it. Like my dad said. And so yeah, that's my experience with art!

This is Trip, and I'm out!

June

June. I'm not sure, but I think this is a good word. People around me are getting increasingly excited about this thing called Summer. It sounds nice, but I have no reference point so I'll just tell you about me and my fabulous little self.

I stayed in a bird house! Yep, no shit. I wouldn't lie to you. I stayed in a bird house. Well, they called it a bird house; it was right up the street from Grandma's house and it was swell. A nice private little space to go to bed in, and wake up in. One can sleep well in a bird house, no wonder birds wake up so early - they're well rested.

Things I've learned recently: Holiday weekend; Stay; Shake my stump; Second round of shots; Long walks, getting longer; Grandma.

Yep, I met Grandma...finally. She was resistant, and I'd heard rumors she was against my impending arrival, but she loves me! Oh how she loves me. And oh how she smells... just like a grandma should. Sigh.

That's me. This is Trip, and I'm out!