It's not FAIR!

As the weather starts turning and it's time to turn up the thermostat, many art enthusiasts like myself know that Art Toronto is just around the corner. I've been a 'regular' at the fair for years and have spent countless hours walking every square inch of the Metro Toronto Convention Centre in order to satisfy my visual appetite and to see what the creme de la creme of the art world has to offer.

This year especially I was eagerly waiting for the program to arrive in my mailbox so that I could diligently study each page (in between feeds) and plan a quick weekend getaway from #momlife.

The booklet arrived a few days after Emm was born. It sat on the kitchen table unopened for weeks, as if mocking me every time I walked past it carrying a load of (never ending) laundry, (dirty) diapers and/or (crying) baby. When I finally did get a minute to myself, I ripped open the envelope faster then I had opened my university acceptance letter and studied each page in awe. Excitedly I RSVP'd to a number of events and pumped every day leading up to the opening so that my hubby could have enough milk in order to give me a few hours worth of 'me' time. Just when I thought I had it all figured out, Murphy's Law prevailed and hit me with a more than healthy dose of reality. Here's what happened.

Art Toronto lasts four and half days. The half being a gala reception on the evening before the fair is open to the general public. The morning of the gala I felt a faint twitching sensation in my right eye. As the day wore on, my eye lid started to become red and swollen looking. A few weeks prior I had developed an eye stye (for the first time!) in my left eye and I was slowly coming to the realization that this in fact could be a recurrence. Maybe it would clear before the weekend?! I began the same routine as I had the previous time hoping it would lead me to the same outcome and a quick recovery. Green tea compresses, absolutely zero make-up (which is super easy these days!) and...get ready for this...squirting my own milk (YUP!) in my eye using a syringe. Desperate times call for (very) desperate measures. I swear it had worked the last time! I soon found out that this time would be a little different. It seemed like the stye in this eye had come back with a vengeance and was adamant about keeping me from leaving the confines of my house. No matter what I did it seemed like it was only getting worse. I was convinced that even my own daughter couldn't recognize as she inquisitively looked up at me while nursing. As much as I tried (for the sake of the blog!) I couldn't bring myself to post a picture of what I looked like but if you still need a visual, imagine Will Smith in the movie Hitch at the part when he has an allergic reaction and his eye blow up like a pufferfish. At one point it got so bad that my new nickname at home has become Styeclops. Stye's - another postpartum after effect that none of the pregnancy books warned me about. Apparently some women even get hit with chronic styes. Let's hope I'm not part of that statistic.

Needless to say, Styeclops did not go to the gala that night and all weekend plans were suddenly cancelled. Apart from the vanity of it all, I also felt like someone had punched me in the eye and lived to tell about it. Following days of warm compresses and avoiding the urge to scratch the heck out of my eyeball, I woke up Monday morning feeling like I could actually see the world again. After putting Emm down for her mid-morning snooze the hubby did something I will never, ever forget. He knew how upset I was about the whole weekend going up in smoke so he turned to me and said: GO, I GOT THIS. The tone of his voice gave me the confidence boost I needed to rush upstairs and get ready in 5 seconds flat. Honestly, I sometimes think this man knows me better than I know myself. And let me tell you, I have never put on mascara and leather pants as quick as I had that day. Following a quick drive downtown, I actually got to spend a few hours with the third love of my life...art.

Upon getting to the venue, I quickly scanned my card, headed up the escalator and did what any good art patron would do. Looked for a cocktail. The RBC Lounge provided just what I needed. A welcome glass of sauvignon blanc, obligatory Instagram post and then two splendid hours of looking at art. Limited time calls for good strategy so I relied on the approach which I had been taught in art school. Tackle the never ending aisles of white walls using the snake walk approach. It's a fool proof way of not getting (too) confused and making sure you see absolutely everything.

Upon my brief journey up and down the aisles I encountered the usual suspects and some fantastic international galleries which I hadn't known about. One of my absolute favourites this year was a Peruvian gallery called Ginsberg Galeria who was exhibiting artists Mariu Palacios and Arturo Kameya, amongst others. I was awe struck by one piece in particular: Untitled (2016) by Maria Eugenia (Mariu) Palacios. This image is absolutely breathtaking in person and my amateur photo simply does not do it justice. The work is a digital photograph, printed on cotton paper, giving it a painterly quality. The work speaks to the beauty within and challenges the viewer to look beyond the physical attributes of the figure. The white lace material which shields the figure from plain sight has a delicate quality to it, despite also resembling a straight jacket. There is so much that is left unsaid. A beautifully disturbing work which I personally would love to own.

Similarly to prior years, red balloons could be spotted throughout the fair. The balloons provide a stark colour contrast to the white gallery walls and are meant to grab the fairgoers attention signifying the lucky few which have been acquired by museum curators into their coveted collections. These red balloons also typically signify a major turning point in an artist's career. One work in particular that stood out to me more than others. Bring Me To This Place by Meryl McMaster is an absolutely brilliant work which the Art Gallery of Ontario proudly acquired.

I learned from the gallery attendant that McMaster explores the contradictions and conflicts within her own dual heritage by returning to a site in Alberta where colonization has severely impacted her ancestral ecosystem and environment. This particular site was once home to animals like bison, beaver and the prairie chicken which her Plains Cree ancestors hunted sustainably for thousands of years. In contrast, the settlers that followed hunted the animals to near extinction. This powerful image invites introspection and conversation on behalf of the viewer. McMaster is also part of a current exhibition at the AGO titled Ever. Now. Then: Reframing Nationhood, which is on display until December 10 in recognition of Canada's sesquicentennial. I look forward to once again getting lost in the haunting beauty of this work and seeing it publicly displayed at the AGO hopefully sometime in the near future.

As I neared the end of my time at the fair, I made sure to quickly visit the booths of my two favourite galleries. Not surprisingly, Angell Gallery and Division Gallery did not disappoint this year. At Angell, the work of artworld veteran Gavin Lynch left quite the impression as did Alex McLeod's work at Division Gallery.

Making my way home with a big smile of my face I couldn't help but think what my trip to Art Toronto will be like next year. By that point Emm will be over a year old and will likely be running down the aisles herself (albeit without a cocktail). Our art adventure has only just begun...

-Yvonne