Recently, I made the huge mistake of going to the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles with my mother. Now let me tell you, I was very nervous about this because there are not very many moms that I know who enjoy contemporary art. If that painting did not come from a five-year-olds finger tips, then it's a piece of crap.
Despite my reservations, I went through LA traffic to a popular museum, on free museum day. This was already a nightmare considering that there are way too many people walking around Downtown Los Angeles trying to get their yearly fix of art, but that's a whole other issue.
We get to the museum and I leave my mom with my sister so that I can walk around on my own because I just did not want to hear what they had to say. I'm an art student for crying out loud and they could have ruined my entire existence. Well, my mom managed to do that anyway.
The final room I stepped foot in was full of Mark Rothko's pieces and let me tell you something: I love me some Mark Rothko. Sitting in this room, I felt so giddy because it was the first time I had ever seen these in person. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mom and sister enter the room. My mom saunters over to me and tells me that it's time to go.
This is the part where my life falls apart. What possessed me to ask my mom what she thought of these paintings, I will never know. This woman looks me dead in the eye and says, "I think they're ugly and boring. This guy sure was lazy." Now imagine a Mexican mom telling you that with all the sass in the world. The heart that beats in my chest audibly broke.
I spent the rest of the day trying to convince my mom that she should change her mind, but even I knew that was a waste of time. I bought a journal at the MOCA Store to ease my pain.
So what do you do when this happens? Well, I didn't talk to my mom for a solid amount of time and when I did, I didn't believe a word that came out of her mouth. She lost my trust for about an hour. Eventually your heart heals and everything is back to normal, but I have a feeling that this will probably happen again soon.
Moral of the story: Don't take your mom to a contemporary art museum and don't ask your mom's opinion about the things you absolutely love. They're heartbreakers.