A (Miss) Peggy Lee Moment

Boy, did this screen capture come out pink and blue! There I am in all my splendor, just before the doors opened for "Pay to Play" at Odetta Gallery in Brooklyn. That's Ellen Hackl Fagan, artist/curator/gallerist (a woman of many hats!!) observing my shenanigans. Incidentally, there is a a squeaky toy sewn into the tip of my large "member" and administering a good squeeze is definitely encouraged!
Someday when I suffer from a surfeit of free time (like never) I will recount at length all of the chills/spills and thrills accompanying the setting up and opening. Suffice it to say that the opening was a premier event: lots of people (some friends, some new acquaintances, some evil), lots of Instagram moments, lots of paparazzi (thank you Eileen! for the above photo). I'm re-exhausted just thinking about it all.
However, I will partially recall one particularly salient episode. It was after eight (the ostensible closing time of the opening) and people kept drifting in. Several of us had an eye widening realization when a VERY IMPORTANT ART CRITIC COUPLE appeared. I suffer no illusions that they were there for me (and I am aware (again) of how fortunate I am to be showing with three gentlemen who are truly well connected.) but there they were, none the less. I was introduced and vague things were said, the royalty in question obviously happy that their royalty was being duly respected. I drifted off, knowing that they were deep in mutual nuzzle with the powerful, connected artists.
But a few minutes later, the male member of the POWERFUL ART CRITIC COUPLE was actually standing in front of and actually looking at, one of my pieces. I allowed him time to mosey down the long wall on which three of my works were hung, and then I approached him. Before I could even hazard a choice word or two (such as, "Come here often?" or "For a couple a thousand, I could send you home with one of these beauties!") he said (preemptively), "Love the work, but lose the specific reference words." I was like, "Huh?" He sneers, "Yeah, like "Sequestration". No one knows what that is, and no one cares". So I proceed to explain that I see part of my mission as an attentive artist to immortalize these phrases that pass through our news cycles and our everyday language and !poof! they're gone. He says, "Doesn't matter. no one cares." I started to respond but he moved off, But he dismissively tossed a "But what do I know?" over his shoulder. I guess I was supposed to melt into the floor and think, "But he MUST know! He's a very POWERFUL ART CRITIC!" I just thought, what a jerk! He was so cynical and so jaded...
But this is also a good instance of how Ellen is truly doing things right: she got the right artists in the right space at the right time. The POWERFUL ART CRITIC COUPLE did attend and did make odd critical noises- very impressive for a gallery that is only six months old!
I confess that after dining late and catching the next to last train home and walking a good ten minutes in a freezing sub-zero head wind and  scraping wind shields and getting tucked into bed at 2:00 am, it was exhausting but exhilarating.
It was Saturday afternoon, after too many video games and a bit of time to reflect that I sank into my Peggy Lee Moment, where I had to wonder, "Is that all there is?" In an effort to ward off the resulting post-opening depression that sneaks up and bottoms you out, I began that mad house cleaning that I have threatened for so long. I vacuumed and hung up jackets and put away the last of the Christmas tchotckes.
Today we venture back to NYC to have my work photographed. This will stave off the residual cobwebs of cosmic indifference. And actually? Having a show at a swell gallery in an trendy neck of Brooklyn is not a shabby way to start the New Year!