Here is a holiday weekend diversion that has nothing to do with walking, anatomy, or pain relief.
I spent a lot of time in museums and galleries as a child and young adult. I had pretensions of being an artist and I lived a life immersed in books, paintings, film and sculpture. And then I didn’t. I remember reading a quote from the German writer Rilke that if art was not your only salvation you might as well give it up, so I did.
I took ten years off of books and movies and the like and learned what I could about the body, movement and yoga. When I had kids I reassessed my approach and got back in the viewing, mostly for my children who I hope will find the same magic in museums that I did. So far so good. My son is still a bit young at 5 but my daughter at 7 is all up in it, she recently spent hours examining every piece in the Claes Oldenburg retrospective.
Which brings us to this morning’s adventure—the Rain Room at an adjunct of MOMA— an exhibit that only 8 people can attend at a time. What this meant was a three and a half hour wait for what turned out to be a glorified science fair project. Not that it wasn’t cool. It was raining in a twenty by twenty foot square but where ever you walked it stopped raining. Unless you walked too fast and then you get soaked like my children.
I let go of art because the narcissism of it all grew tired for me, plus, I lacked the driving ambition required for success– but I still know what turns me on and todays exhibit, while pleasant enough, was a fairly useless diversion.