NOTHING FOR SALE

Shaded Coot,

University of Miami

Just west of us is Coral Gables, the last place you'd expect to see an avantgarde art performance. But there she was selling her postcard.

We love the Beaux Art Show. Unlike the the Grove's mega-art festival, it is small enough to see, free and it even welcomes dogs. The two-day event stretches across the University of Miami campus.

Last Saturday under a crisp, 70-degree sun, no one seemed to be in a hurry. As ibis probed the grass for insects

we watched artist Leslie Peebles deftly apply Japanese watercolors to her woodcuts

(www.lesliepeebles.com).

We wandered to the far end of the festival. There, a woman sat alone in one a white-tent booth. As there was no art, I assumed it to be some sort of rest area.

But how could it have just a chair and a table? On it

rested the woman's arm, her coffee, and a postcard.

On the card was a painting of an old house. Obviously this artist had come to the show to make some sort of minimalist statement. She and her six-inch print beckoned me on.

When the woman looked up I pointed to the card and asked, "Is that yours?".

She smiled, nodded and handed

it to me. On the back was her name and website, www.marguerite-defrance.com.

She told me I could keep it and put another several more on the table.

"Is the original for sale?" I asked. "Yes, of course.", Marguerite answered and adding, "It's in my car with dozens of others. This is my first show and I did not know that one had to bring partitions to hang paintings. I thought they came with the tent".

She wasn't the performance artist I had imagined but perhaps one just the same. When I saw her she was alone in her booth with her coffee, her purse, and postcard.

ONE MAN'S TRASH

My neighbor has one of the largest bougainvillea trees I have ever seen. It snakes up through the limbs of an oak and spreads over much of the canopy. Every January its flowers fall creating a lush carpet you'd think anyone would enjoy.

But not my neighbor. He instructs his

yard man to rake and bag them.

As soon as they hit the roadside trash pile I drag them into our yard.

I rake them smooth. They rest again on the ground as nature intended them to be.