A reasonably kind person unkindly buttonholed me Thursday evening to ask the meanings behind Dan Arps’ recent show Snakes, tanks, and drapes currently on view at Robert Heald Gallery in Wellington when I caught the tail end of the opening. I initially gave my boilerplate answer, “I’m off the clock…” meaning not assigned to review this show, not working in any capacity, trying to get my head around the art without any undue pressure, maybe even to enjoy it tranquilly. Of course the pressure came from the kind/unkind person, as Robert sidled away and I was left grasping at things to say to this particular individual about the art until I myself had an opportunity to slip away as well. But at any rate, I’ve decided that Arps’ show is worth seeing, some kind of creepily weird amalgam of kandy-colored childlike materials and iconography: intentionally clumsy clay sculptures, printed images of Barney the dinosaur, assortments of appropriated bits gathered together in aquarium-like vitrines. There, that’s about it, my brief report … now back to being slothful and uncritical.