The Scenestress hearts art, high and low

Aah, the gentle sprinkling of a dusk rainfall on my cheeks in downtown Sarasota. The sound of a car screeching to a halt, followed by an old lady in a vinyl rain hood cursing like a sailor. I ducked into Stakenborg Fine Art to escape the garrulous granny, and to check out what the elbow-to-elbow crowd inside was so excited about: a solo show by Nikitas Kavoukles.

The artist himself, relaxed in jeans and a blue blazer, chatted up knots of smiling, nodding silverhairs while I prodded and “scuse-me’d” along the gallery wall, inching past Dali, Picasso, Toulouse-Lautrec and some stout fella loudly praising the health of the diamond market.

Why, hello — red wine and a Yume Sushi loveboat from next door! Suddenly this was my kind of art opening.

I popped morsels in my mouth while Mr. Christian Stakenborg patiently explained to me the difference between an etching and a lithograph. I could have listened to his droll Dutch accent for hours on any dang subject, but two figures shrouded from head to toe in shimmering gold veils appeared over his shoulder. I went from bemused to befuddled as they silently stalked through the crowded gallery. Was it okay to stare? Because I couldn’t really help myself. Then, when Kavoukles’ wife Carol wrapped a shimmering gold strip around my wrist, the lightbulb flickered on … duh, performance art!

Then this sweaty, wrecked dude lurched through the door with a bleach-blonde belly dancer on his arm. Her sparkling, jingling, screaming turquoise get-up practically blanched the paintings on the walls — and boy, that bustier was crying out for some backup. At first I wondered … more performance art? In its own special way, yes, it certainly was.

On the other side of the Trail at G.WIZ, the crowd at the S/ART/Q opening of “THIRTEEN” looked pretty diff — okay, younger — sporting plenty of asymmetrical haircuts and a lot more skinny denim. A certain Cat in the Basement cracked a Yuengling for me at the bar, and I headed upstairs to be confronted by Bridezilla’s D_ck, an Amy W. Miller original sculpture. Not all of my fellow gawkers were amused by the title, but I think lately we’ve all been learning a little about the artistic license to provoke thanks to a certain downtown mural, amirite?

I spotted S/ART/Q co-founder Tim Jaeger hanging out by a couple of his “Laundry Series” paintings. I like listening to Tim talk, too — something about that slight Western Kentucky drawl layered over his earnest and articulate conversation makes me long for bourbon and a back porch.

“I want to try to help them understand so they can grow with it,” he told me of his artwork. “If you build stairs, people will climb up to the second floor. It sounds simple, but if I give them stairs people will go to the next level with me.” Say no more, Tim; I’m already up on the roof.

This. Is. MINDBALL.

Ultimately, other open wings of the museum ensnared me, and I spent the rest of my art excursion goofing with the “Whisper Dishes” and being terrified by G.WIZ’s resident Vietnamese giant centipede. The entire evening felt like a glorious age regression: I went from discussing archetypal figures in oil paintings at 6:30 to playing with magnets by 9.

The most remarkable part? For all that artsy fartsy fun, I didn’t have to spend a dime.

Speaking Of Free: THIS WEEKEND

Sarasota’s getting a new clothing company in its backyard, and this Saturday (12/17) These Quiet Sounds are hosting its apparel/art/music blog/store’s debut party. They’ve come to show off their newest prints, posters, one-of-a-kind handpainted sneaks and more cool swag. Go to Clothesline if you want to preview the goodies they’ll have at the party. Then get down to the Boatyard Waterfront Bar and Grill Saturday night, where TQS’ll be spreading the love with food, drinks and giveaways until 2 a.m.

- You can hear more about how much the Scenestress loves her new job on Facebook and Twitter.