This weekend was the loft tours. I ended up going and participating, mainly because a lady in the apartment was looking for volunteers to work for a couple of hours, and get a ticket in exchange.
A fair number of buildings, a couple of which apparently backed out at the last minute. One loft behind an art gallery where the owners lived [lots o art everywhere, one piece that I really wanted {a small metal scupture of an abstract griffin with an owl's head}, very low ceiling in the living area. One apartment that was one of two or three, had a cool balcony. Several buildings worth that were decorated by an interior designer, so the realtor could sell the condo. A couple that were in theory lived in, but looked sterile enough I had to wonder if they were primarily vacation homes. One person had done some cool things with posters, adding paint, glitter, hearts, etc, and then framing them. A Mardi Gras Galveston poster looked especially good.
And then there was the Strand Lofts. Two apartments, one older woman, one guy who works as an interior decorator. The woman's had some personal touches, like some clothes [used as decoration] that had been her mother's and grandmother's. The guy's apartment got a few comments. It's fairly obvious [to me anyway] that a gay man lives there- one nude male painting [penis present but not obvious], one small picture of some naked guys standing [no genitals showing], one copy of a turn of the century photo of a bunch of miners dancing together. He's done some fun things with the space, including what looks to me like a Buddist shrine. All very artistic, nothing pornographic.
At least one woman went on a tirade yesterday, reportedly insisting that if such horrors were to be shown, there should be a "not appropriate for children" warning. Which makes me want to plan to be on the loft tour next year, and specifically buy some male nudes for the place. Preferably, male nudes with owls involved somehow.
None of the places could come close to touching my parents' house when it come to antiques. Or my grandfather's place, for that matter.
Posted by Owlish at October 8, 2006 10:08 PM | TrackBack