There’s one more day left for the Roswell Arts Festival. It’s taking place just up the road from me in “the square”. This morning on the way to the first orchestra rehearsal for Carmen with the Atlanta Opera there was something very pleasant about seeing all the white tents arrayed on the square and the people streaming in, old and young alike.

Arts festivals are fascinating if for no other reason than to go and figure out what a variety of things people call art. I mean, I suppose the head of a native American warrior carved out of a peach pit is art, but maybe it’s not necessarily my most precise example. It must be rough to be a vendor at one of these too. Some artists hate selling their work, and I’ve been to arts festivals where it showed. They extend an invite to you to look and the moment you have the temerity to decide you’d rather go get a bratwurst instead a bitter scowl appears that ensures you won’t even cross the green near their tent again.

If you decide to come tomorrow you won’t see me; Carmen has it’s first dress rehearsal at the Civic Center downtown.

If they have bratwursts to eat there, I don’t wanna know. (Cap’n Steve loves him a good brat.) The warrior’s head made from a peach pit is another matter entirely.