The Gallery

The Poop's first trip around an art gallery today.

I know. What am I doing taking a ten month old to a gallery? Surely she'll be bored to tears, and thus an absolute nightmare who will cry, scream, howl and whinge her way around every exhibition and consequently spoil the whole experience for every full price paying stoney-faced patron milling about the joint?

Two words for you.

Rolf Harris.

The Australian singing, dancing, composing, swimming, painting, television personality never fails to hit the spot with audiences young and old. With one exception. 

Yep.

Boo.

It wasn't that she wasn't interested in his work; she just found it a bit of a challenge to her insatiable penchant for classical French Renaissance art of the 1497 - 1529 period. She felt the juxtaposition of his particular palette combinations used against a broad but ill researched range of subject matter quite jarring at times, and his play with light and shade was just not as piquant as she believed the more well composed images could have warranted. 

Added to that, The Poop has always hated 'Jake The Peg', so piping this through the gallery speakers on a loop for the entirety of our stay did not go down to rave reviews.

In the mould of a true Briars, Boo is not one to suffer time wasters gladly, deciding to make her concerns known...

by blowing thunderingly loud raspberries at every piece in the collection. Despite my forceful insistence she stop liberally coating famous artworks with a thick glaze of saliva, Betty remained focused on her ploy to take down Harris' collection one blob of gos at a time.

She can be very narrow minded when it suits.

Upsetting the majority of visitors at the exhibition, Boo rasped and spattered her way through a culmination of over sixty years of artistic brilliance and creative ingenuity without a nod of appreciation or regard.
Until I mentioned it might be time to leave and get her some dinner.

Clearly, Rolf Harris just isn't for her, whereas food on the other hand, very much is.

Let's see you stick to your principles when you're eight and want to be able to draw cartoons, love.
Then I'll be impressed.