Tag Archives: roots

Blog August Twelve

I have the weekend to myself. Parents are visiting my brother two states away and I’ve volunteered to watch the dogs. I might have made a mistake in that point though, while tidying the house I left a trash bag upon the kitchen floor. Hopefully the mess isn’t too bad when I get home. They’ll still get a treat though, after all it was my fault.

The reason I left, to get some cleaning supplies. Well. The first stop anyway, was for a plant. You see, I second handedly killed a special house plant of my mother’s. I tried to revive the poor thing with new soil and water and love, but I believe it was too late. Now the pot sits dirt full in the living room, it’s only use now is the primary reason the poor plant died in the first place, my cat. So I bought a new plant, an African Violet. I know Mom had one some time ago but she never got it to bloom. I’ll take really good care of this one and make sure that darn cat stays clear.

Second stop was Super Target, for the cleaning supplies. That was uneventful.

Then I decided to do something I’ve always wanted to do. Part of an earlier blog days ago where I said I was going to start doing things for myself and be somebody. I decided that I’d take a little artsy hop along downtown Davenport, IA. Crafted Quad Cities was a cute little working studio shop that hosted a wide variety of handmade items from local artists. What caught my eye was a t-shirt, I love t-shirts and have a ton, which said “Quad Cities Where Iowa and Illinois Spoon”. I had to have that. I should look into their classes and see what they have to offer 

I also stopped at the Bucktown Center for the Arts. Another dusty old building housing real art work from real vendors around these parts. I really came here for one particular artist, the girl friend of a co-worker who does pottery. She had a small selection here and there is one thing I’d love to have so I’ll have to go to one of her shows to get it. 

Next up, one of the most prized possessions of the Quad Cities, The Figge. It’s free entry all summer long. Right now I’m sitting in a gallery as I write this all out on my phone because there’s one particular painting in the say, three rooms I’ve been in so far that caught my eye. My father doesn’t like art. He doesn’t understand how anyone could paint something and it be worth so much. “Looks like Picasso just didn’t know how to draw a face, I wouldn’t buy it.” I get what he’s saying of course, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all. Maybe he just hasn’t found his beauty yet. I know he himself is a wonderful artist and creates all kinds of things. He had a mural on our dining room wall of something he saw on an old record. It stayed there for nearly 40 years until we had to tear that wall down. But he was able to recreate what he saw and it was beautiful in it’s old cracked way.

But back to the painting I saw. It’s a landscape of wide open space. And what really drew me in was how the artist was able to create such detail in the background. What looked like farm houses and trees from a distance, were merely dots when looking closer. Dots. I’m just awestruck. So simple, but damn. It’s interesting how the little things are the things that speak to me. 

Now maybe I do have a lot of my dad in me, the next exhibit I walked through was a photographer’s journey down the Mississippi. The stops she made a long the way and the people she met. And sure, they’re cool pictures but I’m not sure how that makes it art. Moving along. There’s many floors to this museum and not much else jumped out to me. Though I did have a lot of fun in the Corn Maize. Which was a lot of plastic bottles in the form of corn stalks arranged in an actual maze. It was easy to navigate, but I’m sure a three year old would have some difficulty.


From here on I just walked around the downtown area. I’ve decided that Davenport is a great place to be a people. Theres plenty to do, beautiful sights (when it’s not flooded of course), and it’s definitely got that midwest courtesy. Reminds me that I need to get out and enjoy what’s in front of me a lot more. I highly recommend being a tourist in your own town.

Now it’s time to go back home and see what kind of mess my dogs got into. 

Bonus: Something my dad definitely wouldn’t get in the least. 

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