Last night I attended the First Friday Art Walk in downtown Vancouver (USA). I began at the Angst Gallery at 1015 Main Street. A violinist played and fresh strawberries, sparkling water and sour dough bread with hummus enticed a crowd to linger over a juried art collection. The jurors were students of the Vancouver School of Arts and Academics, so the collection was varied and interesting. The artists were not necessarily students, although some students' pieces did win a place in the show.
Carol Doane, one of my critique group members and a fabulous writer, stood outside the Active Qu3st office and together we walked to several other art galleries. In one gallery, a gentleman played the guitar and a table struggled to hold platters filled with cheese bread, cinnamon pizza bread, tarts, cookies and brownies. On an opposite wall several paintings of ducks hung. Since last weekend I spent nearly four hours at the Ridgefield Wildlife Refuge, these paintings caught my attention. I recognised the mallard in one painting, but couldn't identify the subject of the next one.
"Carol, what kind of duck is that?" I asked. It was stunning with all its colors and striping and polka dots and plumage.
She studied the painting. "I don't know."
A woman leafing through a rack of prints for sale looked up at the painting. "That is a wood duck," she stated.
"Ah," I said. "That is the one I really wanted to see last weekend, but didn't. Others said they saw them, but I didn't. Thank you."
Carol and I strolled a little further and began to discuss another painting. The woman marched up to us. "Excuse me," she began, her face tinged pink, "I've been known to answer questions even if I don't know the answer. I don't know for sure that is a wood duck. I just thought I'd better tell you that."
What kind of courage did it take for that woman to follow us down the aisle just to admit she may not have been as knowledgeable as she sounded? Both Carol and I chuckled and the woman went back to thumbing through the plastic covered prints.
We moved on to more paintings and I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Excuse me." The woman was back, clutching a print of the same type of duck in the painting. "But I was right." She held the back of the print up so I could clearly see the title, "Wood Duck."
Photo by BS Thurner Hof
The first Friday of next month I need to go back to the Art Walk. The people attending these events are my type of people.