Andrew and I went to Tacoma for Valentine's Day to see what's there.

The Museum of Glass for one, which seems to be a lot like the EMP in that it's got this amped-up building for so little to show. We expected to see a bunch of Chihuly glass, but it turns out that Chihuly's got a deal with the Tacoma Art Museum up the street, where there's bunches of his stuff. In fact, there's very little actual glass art in the glass museum, which is a huge disappointment considering the $10 entrance fee. We were wondering if innovative glass artists are hard to come by. Besides Chihuly, most glass pieces I've seen are terrible Chihuly knock-offs. The artist-in-residence at the Museum of Glass, Stacey Neff, does have some wild stuff going on with pods. It makes sense that they'd nab her to come blow in the cone for a month. Other, nonglass displays were cool, but I thought I was paying to see glass?

In the Prizm cafe, the manager handed out carnations. I thought that was sweet.

It was a bit blustery, and although the walk to the Tacoma Art Museum from the Museum of Glass is a short trip across the Chihuly Bridge and up the street a ways, we chilled fast. So we ducked into the Starbucks at the end of the bridge. The manager there let me attempt baskets in the employee zone by tossing a wadded-up napkin from the customer-side of the counter. I missed the first time, but he said it was because he set me up for failure. When I made it on the second try (he picked up the napkin and handed it back to me, careful to touch only the corner that hadn't hit the ground), he said it was because of his support. That guy was a hoot.

I used to feel bad diving into Starbucks instead of an independent joint. But since Mary starting working at Corporate, I feel like buying Starbucks is supporting her and thus me indirectly. From her I learned that all stores stock short cups even though they're no longer on the menu. Also, organic milk should be available, just ask.

My neighbor, Vince, works at the Tacoma Art Museum and got us comp tickets. He said the American Artists in Paris, 1918 - 1939 show would be great, and he was right. It was the best exhibit I've seen in a couple of years. The last few shows to pass through SAM have been disappointments. This show at TAM is awesome, in part, I think, because the theme is well-defined. The pieces are cohesive and well-supported by the descriptions and photographs. I felt like I learned something new about the kinds of things that inspired the artists of the period; e.g. as Americans fled the narrow-minded and corporate-driven America, their European counterparts found inspiration in the country's industry and encouraged American artists to explore it. It was a treat to see pieces by Man Ray, Edward Steichen, John Storrs, Fernand Leger, Alexander Calder, and Stuart Davis. Some of them, for me, jaw-droppers.

I don't know why I'm drawn to the interwar period. I love the literature from the time, the painting and sculpture, the history, politics. I think I'm captivated by the unabashedness. As I looked at Storr's sculptures, I was amazed at how innovative they still seem, as if the horror of World War II is the rein that still keeps us contained. I can't think of any examples of such daring leaps in form as those taken then. After the war, it seems we took a step back, making sure some piece of convention always accompanied the avante-garde so as not to get too far ahead of ourselves.

Also at TAM is a tight exhibit that explores the cultural politics of Lewis & Clark. More than half of the artists represented in the exhibit are native americans. The show is dark and painful, and in that way unified and powerful. It was the surprise hit.

After the museums we tried to see Point Defiance Park, but all that intellectual spongework tired us. I showed Andrew Ruston Way and all the high school prom restaurants. We drove past the old Asarco smelter and we honked through the tunnel there, which was a favorite thing to do from kidhood. Then we got a snack from a hippie sandwich place just outside the park. It was a rest, but not enough, so we cancelled our dinner reservations at Primo Grill and came back to Seattle for a nap.

It turned out that Crave, a new favorite neighborhood place, was still taking reservations. We dropped by there around nine and dined finely in the cozy little space for a reasonable price (always!). They were giving out little chocolate hearts with the check.