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| "Head of a Woman" by Pablo Picasso |
My streak of normal, relaxed
mornings ended today.
I woke up the way they do in
movies: extremely – and I do mean extremely – late and flustered. To help you get a better sense of how late I was, I had missed the 9:30 Sunday
church service I had planned on going to altogether. After what I deemed a good
amount of time spent wringing my hands, I called Ms. Thrift and notified her
that I would try to go
to the 11:30 service instead and
then meet up with her afterwards. Church service was wonderful again, with a
great deal more people those who had been at the 9:30 service last week. (I guess I’m not the
only one who wakes up later than earlier. Even now it doesn’t take too much
effort for me to remember the franticness of checking my watch in the morning. I
really did feel like Jim Carrey in the mask when his eyes pop out of their
sockets and not in a good way either.) In the end, though, it worked out nicer
than I imagined it would have and I can't complain about the extra sleep either.
So, when the kind doorman at the Lucerne
asked me how I was, I said I was doing well. And the day got even better as
time wore on. The majority of it was dedicated to viewing the Museum
of Modern Art
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| The original. |
Like all of the other museums I
had visited beforehand, I was blown away. The art expressed through various
mediums including and beyond the traditional ones were simply remarkable. I was
able to view the original “Starry Night” painting by Vincent Van Gogh in all of
its nuanced splendor. (I’m going to be honest; I thought it was going to be much
larger.) I was also able to see the works of other artists I had never heard of
before like Lawrence Weiner, Niele Toroni, Lynda Benglis, and Jean Dubuffet.
As I have already said, I can’t explain
the things I saw in a way where I feel like my words do the work any justice.
Each piece has so much meaning waiting to be derived from it, or maybe even no
meaning (which is meaningful in it of itself). I just don’t have the
understanding or the space to attempt to talk about each one currently. But it’s
not that I don’t want to try. What I’m really trying to say is that you have to
see and experience it yourself.
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| Museum staff are always so fascinating. |
We were promptly kicked out of
the museum in the middle of an installation and I hadn’t even seen an entire
floor’s worth of art in the museum yet! (I do plan on going again later on in the
week, maybe with Izabel if she’s up for it.) From there, we walked some more,
lingering by the Rockefeller Center
The MOMA had not yet seen the
last of us and we returned for a free jazz concert by the Dahi Divine Quintet.
The music, as expected, was phenomenal. The lighting and ambience in the MOMA’s
medium-sized sculpture garden was spot on and the evening was beautiful, a bit
sticky if I do say so myself, but still beautiful.  |
| "Building Facades" by Jean Dubuffet |
I returned back to campus
becoming more conscious of the fact that I hadn’t seen any of my cohort members
the entire day by the second. And although at first it was slightly weird not seeing them at all and
knowing that they were all hanging out together without me *coughs,* I didn’t
feel as though I was missing out; I had the pleasure of seeing and tasting and
hearing and experiencing so many stunning things that there was no space left
to feel as though I had missed out on anything.
So while I didn’t get to go see
Yale with the others, I was glad that I decided to stay back and go to church
and the MOMA and Five Guys and back to the MOMA again to hear the quintet and
then the hot un-air-conditioned metro car on the way back to Columbia .
I was more than glad.
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| One of my favorite Van Gogh's. |
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| A mini Duchamp collection. |
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