“What in the world is this?” I asked, looking at a huge painting set up in Melody’s apartment.
“I call it Flower Dancers,” Melody said.
“I think I see the flowers,” I said, “but where are the dancers?”
“See,” she pointed. “There is a little dancer on each flower.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t expect you to get it,” she said. “It’s modern art and there’s nothing modern about you.”
“If you say so. Do you have any more paintings that I haven’t seen?”
“I do, but they’re going to be in an art exhibition at the Bliss Institute in Belize City this week. Are you going to come to the show?”
Since I had to be in Belize City that Tuesday, I stopped in at the exhibition.
“I’m glad you made it to the show,” Melody said. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’s out shopping.” I said. “She’ll meet me here later. Show me some art.”
As we walked around the gallery, she pointed out different paintings.
“You must be joking,” I said, as I looked at the price tag on one of the paintings. “This is nothing but a bunch of circles painted with different shades of color and the artist wants five hundred dollars for it.”
“If you want it, I’m sure the artist would give you a ten percent discount,” Melody said.
“I don’t see anything in this room that is a recognizable picture of anything,” I said. “Look at this. It’s a little tiny painting of something that looks like either a frog or a cow. It’s no bigger than my hand and they want three hundred and fifty dollars for it.”
“If you had your glasses on you could see that it is a jaguar,” she said. “Where are your glasses?”
“I didn’t bring them with me.”
“Well, quit whining and buy something,” Melody said. “You need to support the arts.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, stopping to look at another one. “How do they get away with calling this art?”
It was a small black dot set on a field of white and framed in brass.
“On the other hand, I kind of like this one,” I said. “It looks somehow familiar. How much do they want for this? Maybe I can afford it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Melody said. “That’s the light switch.”
