My Friend Louis St. Lewis

I went to see an opening of one of my favorite artists last night: Louis St. Lewis. The solo show of his work filled Tyndall Galleries of Chapel Hill with a sensuous feast of flamboyant wonderfulness. People of all ages went gaga over it. I even brought my parents. Louis is mischievous. I appreciate that in others. I can relate, and I hope neither of us ever loses this quality.

Just as do I, Louis St. Lewis adores vibrant colors and shiny things. We’re both epicureans devoted to lives of gusto. I appreciate his classical and Renaissance references. He also scrounges the more recent worlds of masters such as Klimt and, of course, Andy Warhol. My dad claims we’re related to Andy Warhol. As we kids are always reminded, it is such a small world after all. I’m glad of this, as it means Louis St. Lewis and I get chances for our paths to intersect.

He takes such joy in the world and finds beauty wherever he turns. I am not quite 11 months old. As not even a one year old yet, I guess that makes me zero years old. In any case, I consider him an excellent role model. In my albeit limited experience, I must say the opportunity to appreciate multiple works of Louis’ in one evening is a marvelous and rare affair. I feel transported through a whirlwind of brilliant manipulations weaving everything from ancient myths to pop icons. The work is as colorful as the southern gentleman himself. His eyes are as beautiful blue as my own, but I digress.

Daddy was able to capture a prized photograph of me and Louis kidding around in front of Blast Off, my favorite work at the show! I was so excited I put my hand over my mouth to keep from babbling something silly!

We hung out with our pals Michael and Sarah Lowder. Aside from being super fun, Michael is the Executive Director of Artsplosure and Sarah, the Executive Director of the Wade Edwards Foundation.

We dined at Jujube in Chapel Hill. It’s a Chinese/Vietnamese fusion restaurant that I can enthusiastically recommend. To my eye it’s hip and sophisticated. Bamboo shades filter the streetlight into a warm atmosphere. The roasted chicken was divine. Michael’s red wine smelled great from across the table, but I didn’t catch what kind it was.

I was a bit embarrassed by my dad attempting to eat curried noodles with chopsticks. I don’t know exactly how such a feat should be properly done, but I think I’ll have him wiki chopsticks etiquette regarding noodles. Perhaps he should stick with the shrimp and crab cakes. Jujube cuisine, if you’ll pardon the reference, is like mother’s milk.

***UPDATE***

co·in·ci·dence [koh-in-si-duhns]

noun

1. an event that might have been arranged although it was really accidental.

Soooo....Daddy emailed a few friends and family the update of my blog about two hours ago. After being hauled around town on an errand tonight, Daddy received a reply from the purchaser of Blast Off, Sydney Scherr, who just so happens to be my fourth cousin. See what I mean about a small world?