As we were walking into the Georgia O’Keefe Museum, my dad spoke into the light summer rain. “This is it, you’re finally going to be able to see her museum, after all of the years of studying and admiring her paintings. Here’s the thing. I’ve been to this museum before, once when I was in high school. Georgia O’Keefe makes lovely paintings, but she’s not my favorite painter. I do like her paintings, though. When most people speak of O’Keefe, they usually bring up her big flower paintings, which are believed to be a clever abstraction of anatomy. Maybe they speak to her cow bone paintings, which are a little…