#6…where we consider Invitations.

Invitation, a nice word: the sound of a flowing Italian sauce with a delicate touch of garlic.

Antiquated Politeness        ink         H.Eaton

You are probably okay with receiving an invitation to this serial blog without the touch of a fluid pen, a once ridiculous idea.

The desired reunion participants have held out committing; maybe it is the invitation methods, maybe anticipations of better offers. The prairie location?  Mid-20th century avant-garde types have responded to mailed mimeographs, ancients await parchment, wax-sealed and signet ring embossed.   Finding a telegrapher is impossible, although a phone call to a derelict tavern or wind-swept cafe usually contacts an enfant terrible of a century ago.  Proper invitations are a dilemma in a world without cursive.

The Acceptance Enigma         ink    H.Eaton

Late 20th century types are arriving, a bit early;  strained from the highways into the parking area.  These are the best trained of the avant-garde paradigm types and maintain a stressed but insular community.  Imagining a significance to this reunion and exhibits they have also brought an entourage.  Most of whom were not on the invitation list.

Our unwillingness to invite them was that, gastronomically speaking, they just kept adding garlic to an otherwise flavorful sauce.  Their admiration of earlier avant-garde works, the often acrid taste that certain works of the invited enfant terribles troubled their times with; were simply made indigestible.  Honoring copies, derivatives, or appropriations by many now parking their cars; didn’t seem like what we wanted.  Unfortunately to dis- them now means explaining to agitated artistics: something they won’t believe.  Meanwhile they are holding and unloading bombshells they fully expect to exhibit.

The Parking Lot          ink drawing and bronze     H.Eaton

We have this there are other ongoing problems.  The tent is not safely up, there are demands for services, some of these latter day anarchists have set up bomb trading spaces; and there are unexpected children, partners, publicists, and pets.  Many of the spouses are not artist but bring  explosive grudges, attitudes, and an omnidirectional aim.

Remember, you are invited to rejoin this blog…next Saturday.