Hit and Miss in the South

---

Hello all!

This trip was to Florida, and hopefully to Mexico, but the below the border portion was sadly dashed.

I flew to Dallas and things went well. The second leg of the journey, to Tampa, went off without a hitch,

or so I thought,



My main goal while in the Tampa Bay area was to visit the Salvador Dali Museum in St. Petersburg.

Dali has been my favorite artist, ever since Mr. Lathrop displayed the artist's work to us in my 9th grade art class.

The museum in St Pete is the world's largest private collection of Dali's original works.



After checking into my hotel, I drove off down the I-275 freeway. The average speed was 70,

but most of us were going 80 to fill in the fast lane. It was like playing a video game. Soon I was at the exit.

The parking set me back $10.00, but I was able to park up front - cool.



Admission ended up being $24, but I was prepared to pay through the nose, as this was

a once in a lifetime event for me. Upstairs to the collections on the third floor. I didn't know it,

but the museum also had a smaller collection of Picasso originals.



I was in awe to be in the presence of my all-time favorite artist. There were quite a few patrons,

so I had to wait a minute or so to get in front of each of the paintings. Each of Dali's works of art

is an illusionary masterpiece. Up close they look like one thing, and at a distance they appear to

be another. So surreal! Admiring the paintings reminded me of my own attempts to depict surrealism,

and I realized that my paintings had comparatively little shading and simplicity compared to this master. I felt

small, like an H2O molecule in a bucket of water, and it sparked me to go back home and paint some more.



I'm including seven photos I took at the museum, respecting fully the original copyrights of his work.



The weather in Tampa was cool and windy, so once back at the hotel, I readied to buy a ticket

to Huatulco, Mexico, where the temperature was 85 degrees. The Alaska Airlines Website prompted

me to enter my passport number. After briefly looking for it, I suddenly remembered foolishly putting it in

the airplane's seat pocket, telling myself not to forget it. Oh, no! I sadly called the U.S. State Department,

reported it missing, and they cancelled it. There was not to be a trip down to the heat of Mexico this time.

on the leg down

to Tampa,

---