Only we didn't get to go on Saturday. Despite on-line hours of operation stating that the museum would be open at 10:00, it didn't actually open until noon. TJ was amused. I was not. We had lunch plans that conflicted with the later opening so we had to delay our visit until this afternoon. We returned shortly before 5:00 today and I was concerned that we wouldn't have time to properly explore, as the museum closes at 6:00.
I shouldn't have worried.
The museum, formerly the home and studio of the artist, features only one solitary painting by the man himself. It hangs in the foyer, which has been converted into classroom space. Much to my surprise, this facility is more community center than museum, hosting a series of classes on such topics as Hispanic-American Literature, Creative Writing, and Furniture History (I am not joking). Class was in session, so I wasn't able to view the painting or the descriptive text up close. On the bright side, this painting looks nothing like his murals, so it's nice to get a bit of variety.
Two other small rooms were filled sparsely with the works of a lesser known artist. It all looked the same.
All told, it took five minutes to walk through the museum. Written on one wall was the following:
That sounds about right. I am at a complete loss as to why this place made the Top 20.
TJ was right, and he knew it.
Tomorrow I will be visiting Number 17. TJ will not be coming. He couldn't be happier.