Did the First Friday thing tonight, where Ashland's galleries are open for a wash of enthusiasts to wander, plod, prod and poke their way around this berg most artistic.
Dropped by The Black Sheep, there to marvel at the organic illuminated sculpture of David Gelfand, whose chandelier graces above the bar therein. Droves swarmed in a sheep fest, munching upon the offered delicacies as David's art shone, glowed, throbbed and pulsed as a packed house warmed, then swarmed in appreciation of his organic, humming, vibrant displays.
Weak-kneed wanna-bees stood frozen on the sidewalk below. Devotion and dedication was required to hoist upwards and revel in the midst of David's creations.
Have you yet viewed this most moist hanging?
Thereafter was a jaunt to Judy Howard's den of delight, where visuals are always enticing. Judy defines the artistic level to which we all strive to attain, so the visit only served to remind me that I should drop by with greater frequency, lest I find myself some day, devoid of the still sensitive nature I once possessed, wandering amidst alley dumpsters while wondering what is sacred and what is sacked.
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