When we arrived at the Taubman Museum of Art, I nearly walked right in front of a woman in bridal dress, standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. She just smiled sweetly. I looked back down and saw the two photographers waiting patiently, cameras at their chins.  

There was supposedly a nice collection of pinball machines in the Taubman at one point. And in my old circle of compadres, I was considered the pinball king. So I’d been looking forward to that exhibit. But I must have been out of town when that happened… no matter. It was always interesting to see what the artists are coming with.

And many times, artists are good for showing us how depraved and messed up our minds and imaginations are. A few of the pictures I didn’t capture in pixel form. Mainly because the images were so perverted.

Don’t believe me? One painting showed naked man hanging by their feet from a gross-looking tree.

Another, probably by the same feet-hanging artist, depicted a sleeping nude man with a two-foot-tall devil sitting on the man’s chest. The little demon’s horns cast an imposing shadow on the red curtain backdrop in the picture, and it leers out at you, the viewer.

Ugh. Gimme some butterflies. Where are the butterflies promised on the front desk handout?

My most recent visit to the Taubman Museum in Roanoke, Virginia was in 2011. That one was partly a babysitting mission, so there was plenty that I missed. This time, it was an all-adult occasion. Basically meaning I could take more photos.

Someone had arranged a whole mess of horse mane hair. I mean I guess it was horse hair. No Rapunzel in sight… There was also this interesting machine called a “Mirroscope“…

Guards hovered around. Hands clasped behind their backs like lecturing professors. Their presence annoyed me for about five minutes. Then I thought twice: Sometimes I forget that there are people out there who consciously mean to do damage in places like museums. Or who are just so mentally clumsy that they’ll ruin it accidentally.

Sure enough, one of the guards had to call our group out. One of us, trying to get a picture with a wall exhibit of intricately-made metal butterflies, stood too close and brushed a blue butterfly. The fake bug boinged around on its mount. Dunno why the guard said anything. In that moment the bug was as alive as it would ever be.

Then there was a room full of butterflies and birds, arranged as if in flight along the white walls. The whole place made me feel like I was in mid-air. 

Wings were everywhere. This was an exhibit, a room, full of work by an artist named Paul Villinski. 

In the middle of all the flying things, the artist Villinski had left something inexplicable. Liquor bottles and belts. Pretty much the opposite of high creatures, going down to the depths of man. 

Designer Judith Leiber had a handbag room from ’11 that was there, still. But with a few swapped out items. There was a photo of Hollywood types carrying the bag designer’s products. “…exquisitely designed couture women’s accessories that blur the boundaries between function and art. Most known for her semi-precious adorned minaudières of compact occasion case, her oeuvre includes day bags, belts and pillboxes.” Okay. Got you. No, I’m kidding. I have no clue what you just said, in essence.

A minaudière is a women’s fashion accessory, generally considered a jewelry piece, intended to substitute for an evening bag. A case with compartments, it allows storage for several items in a small space, such as a makeup compact, lipstick, watch, reading glasses, or keys. [Wikipedia]

We took the elevator to the third floor. Nothing up there, except empty conference areas, and an older couple wandering around looking for a comfort room.

The balcony overlooked 581 and Williamson Road as it turned into a bridge, there at downtown. On the other side: The big H&C Coffee sign that lit up as if a titan-sized cup were being filled by a spout. Beyond that was Mill Mountain with the star on top.

I found myself still flashing back to that midget devil in the painting back there. Nasty little nightmare-inducing thing…