Miss Susan The Artist
Finished Chapter 30 today, entitled "Miss Susan the Artist." Great fun stepping back and looking at her career over a 50 year period. Lots of fun memories and hilarious events flow through the mind. A good example: on one occasion Sue joined with a couple of Chicago artists to mount a show at an Elston Avenue gallery. The area, called Bucktown, was then just emerging as home to new industrial loft spaces. Hanging art in that neighborhood was breaking new ground. Anyway, each artist was responsible for bringing a share of the table food and wine. We dutifully slogged up a couple of flights of stairs with large bags of bread, chips, dips and box wine. After we finished our part of the setup, we began to enjoy the setting, the art, and the people who were passing through, all strangers to us save for a Chicago relative or two.
I had noticed a young unaccompanied Asian lad who wandered over to the snacks table on more than one occasion and seemed to study it more than eat from it. He would then wander off a few steps and engage a piece of art or two, and then back to the table.
I watched until his behavior bored me and looked about in other directions. When my eyes next returned to him he was once again over by the table, this time bending over at the waist and appearing to study the underside of it. I continued to watch.
All of a sudden his plan was put into action. In one continuous movement he pulled out from below the table two of the shopping bags that we had carried in, supplies still in them. He then swept a number of items off the table and into the bags. Finished with the filling, he grabbed a bag in each hand and dashed for the exit, bounding down the stairs three steps at a time. Out into the night he went, his weekend grocery shopping finished. Chasing him seemed like a feckless adventure. He needed the food more than we did. I poured each of us a new glass of wine and we toasted his d
I had noticed a young unaccompanied Asian lad who wandered over to the snacks table on more than one occasion and seemed to study it more than eat from it. He would then wander off a few steps and engage a piece of art or two, and then back to the table.
I watched until his behavior bored me and looked about in other directions. When my eyes next returned to him he was once again over by the table, this time bending over at the waist and appearing to study the underside of it. I continued to watch.
All of a sudden his plan was put into action. In one continuous movement he pulled out from below the table two of the shopping bags that we had carried in, supplies still in them. He then swept a number of items off the table and into the bags. Finished with the filling, he grabbed a bag in each hand and dashed for the exit, bounding down the stairs three steps at a time. Out into the night he went, his weekend grocery shopping finished. Chasing him seemed like a feckless adventure. He needed the food more than we did. I poured each of us a new glass of wine and we toasted his d
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