Honest. I Did Not Lick the Art.

I couldn't get excited about going to the county, even for festive Lebanese food.

So for my lunch plans with a favorite couple, I countered by suggesting Olio and two of us had the bright idea to do the Main Street art walk afterwards.

I arrived a bit ahead of time, early enough to play straight man to owner Jason as we chatted about the scarcity of available (straight) men, the cashier heartily seconding that.

A salad seemed like just the thing for two of us (he got the smoked salmon Nicoise and I got the Springtime), while the Bottomless Pit got the prosciutto di parma sandwich and then scarfed our leftover grilled bread.

We took Jason up on his suggestion of cookies for dessert as we headed down Main Street to see what we might find.

I have to admit, I'm a big fan of the galleries in my J-Ward neighborhood (and, honestly, I usually like the art better on my side of town) and tend to avoid the Main Street ones because of the kind of people I encounter in them.

But on a leisurely Saturday, those people are absent and the galleries are an interesting mix of out-of-town Picasso visitors and others like us, out for an afternoon art stroll.

Our first stop was the Page Bond Gallery to see Andrea Keys Connell and Lacey Jane Roberts' "VCU Arts Craft/Material Studies Fountainhead Fellows" show.

Connell did large scale ceramic works, most of which pertained to the myth of Hercules, some coming in or out of the wall, and some emerging from the floor.

From hard to soft, the centerpiece of Roberts' works was a large scale knitted piece hung on the wall and draped on the floor with words sewn on it.

It was called "Queer Houses of Brooklyn" and a variety of topical buttons lay on the floor in front of it. The price listing for the show indicated that the buttons were for giving away, so I helped myself to one that said "shooting star."

Next up was Artemis Gallery, a place new to all of us. The array of hand-crafted items was staggering and the delightful assortment of handmade and artistic pasties undoubtedly the best I've ever seen. And, just for the record, I'm not that I'm in the market for pasties.

I ran into an artist who recognized me (I couldn't pull up her name for anything) when she overheard my friend make a remark about another artist she knew.

Luckily, she didn't hear the negative comment he'd made about her friend first (one of his most charming habits being his ill-timed and frequently overheard commentary). Oops.

At Red Door, Justin Bishop's metal sculpture from the past ten years reminded me of Giacometti's work, attenuated and with rough metal surfaces.

I was particularly fascinated by the one with nails driven into the figure. Another of a horizontal figure over sharp points was visually stunning.

Leslie Wayne's show at the Visual Arts Center was difficult to get our heads around. Wayne uses sculptural techniques to craft paintings that are three-dimensional. It was challenging to read the vibrantly colored, textured surfaces as paint.

A sign in the gallery said "Please do not touch (or lick) the paintings."

Awkwardly, I saw this sign after my friend and I had yielded to the impulse to lightly touch a surface in hopes of figuring it out.

Part of the show included Wayne's "One Big Love" series, for which the artist created rules including one that the canvases couldn't be larger than 13" x 10".

She also made listening to music one of the conditions of painting the series, resulting in her playing Patty Griffin's song "One Big Love" repeatedly. Needless to say, an artist using music as an obsession feeds into all kinds of things that appeal to me.

Our final stop was Glave Kocen for Ed Trask's show of large scale works, small photographs and metal sculpture.

I was charmed by seeing one of Ed's trademark straw hats hanging on the wall in between paintings.

I was taken by how many of the pieces had a red "sold" sticker on them when the show just opened a week ago. It appears that the Main Street art-buying set had their checkbooks out at Ed's opening.

Hell, I'd happily buy a Trask if I could afford one. I know I could enjoy looking at his work on my walls every day; it embodies Richmond.

And while I could have afforded one of the framed photographs, the ones that spoke to me had already been stickered.

Ah,well. Not meant to be, today anyway, or so the pragmatist in me whispered.

Likewise the Lebanese Food Festival wasn't meant to be for me today. But given the satisfying afternoon I spent eating and ogling art with the happy couple, I'm not feeling any loss.

Shooting stars look forward, not at what they missed.