Monday Morning

Ok,

so,

I had a great weekend doing much and nothing all at once.

Bryce McCloud's art happening on Saturday night was a highlight. Combining a child's activity (attaching a message - and one's hopeful expectations - to a helium balloon and sending it off to unknown reaches), his irrepressible passion for making street-level art and commandeering the dominant military paradigm for his own ends, he once again proves why he is one of a handful of artists who consistently matter in Nashville.

It must also be said that the show at the Acklen Shell station in H'boro Village was full of good work and demonstrates just how much depth the art scene in Nashville really has.

Still, leave it to Bryce to poke a hole in the gallery/museum protocol and instead have a joyous/enlightening mini-festival in a gas station parking lot where there is little room for academic preoccupation or pretentious self-involvement.

I am getting ready to have a great St. Paddy's day. I have given up drinking for lent and am fasting for 36 hours every Sunday, but - as Connor reassured me this weekend, St. Paddy's is a religious holiday as well and I wouldn't want to be remiss in my observances.






I will be cooking the Scotch eggs at precisely 8:00 a.m. on Friday morning.

By the time we are through celebrating we will need a small caliber side arm, a bird of prey, a getaway car and a team of New York lawyers.



Love, Joe Nolan