OK, so Chile may not do food that well (seriously, I’ve been forced to consume four hotdogs in the last four days prepared four different ways — don’t ask), but they certainly have a knack for art.

Chilean art first caught my eye in a neighborhood here in Santiago called Bellavista, where graffiti decorates just about every wall. And luckily, I’m not talking about sh*tty graffiti tags left by T-Bagz, 1-Nut or some other 15-year-old boy with an equally sweet street moniker who has access to a can of spray paint. Nope, I’m talking about some mega-tight mural sh*t, like this:


Or this:


And who could ever forget this?


So when I decided to check out the Museo de Belles Artes this weekend, I wasn’t at all surprised to see this kind of grafitti-esque artwork all up in that bitch. (Goddamn, I’m eloquent.)


This one, painted by Roberto Matta in 1972, is my favorite. However, despite that awesomeness, the sculpture exhibits currently showing at the museum proved even better.

Anyone remember that big-ass hand that’s ready to cop a feel of your butt-cheeks on the beach in Punta del Este in Uruguay? Well, I do. Or rather, my ass does. And who knew (besides knowledgeable people, I mean, who recognize this same artist also sculpted the big-ass hand in Chile’s Atacama Desert) that Mario Irarrázabal, the sculptor in question, is straight outta Santiago? And double who knew that he does more than just hands?! Turns out, he also does people! (Insert — ha, get it? — obvious sexual metaphor here.)

But for serious, this guy’s work made me stop and stare. Like, truly stare. Probably in a creepy way. For instance, I gaped at the below-posted piece for maybe 15 minutes, looking at it from near, far, front, back and sides until I finally settled directly below it and had a conversation with this sculpted man in my head. (For the record, he asked to borrow a pair of jorts…)


But I gotta say, while Irarrázabal’s works probably made me linger the longest, the exhibit I enjoyed the most was Federico Assler’s and not just because of his last name, which continues to make me giggle like Beavis. (Hehe, Assler…) Nope, being the selfish narcissist I am, I enjoyed Assler’s art more because it allowed me to snap what I believe is one of the most professional looking photographs I’ve ever had the accidental pleasure of taking:


Indeed, my sh*t is tight.

And so, because El Museo de Belles Artes led me to become a better artist myself, it’s getting a full four out of four GG’s on the Grinning Gringa Scale of Awesomeness. Congratulations, Museo! Your prize is me possibly stopping by again! Hooray!