Thursday, April 10, 2008

The Brooklyn Museum

The Brooklyn Musem is a blend of classic and modern. Even from first encounter does the museum juxtapose new upon old. An immense columned structure, the prior museum, is fronted with a crescent, glass atrium covering what one can only imagine was a huge grand staircase.

Upon further exploration, there is a reflection pool at one end and a rainbow of cement and green grass extendin zen serenity out into the city block. Yet, names chiseled above gargoyles on the old structure read Aristotle, Socrates, Mohamed.

Once inside, the atrium partners traditional stone sculptures with the fiberglass of Murikami. Age-old myths of pegases and men contrasting today's fiction of anime.

I visited the museum once before, for a graffiti exhibit in 2006. But the special exhibition of Takashi Murakami inspired my friends and me to visit today. His first pieces in the atrium are huge fiberglass installations of fictional bubble-like characters. Jelly-fish figures of all colors, one on top of the other, equally innocent and yet psychedelic. Up into the exhibit, the opening is a five-story cylindrical expanse. On display, three figures, all the same woman. The first she is upright, all curves with a tiny waist, huge hair, painted all sorts of colors. In a outfit ready for battle, she is a comic book warrior. In the next, her body parts contorted like a Transformer, she is changing into something. The third, she is a jet. Her female parts the nose of the fighter, her legs tucked underneath, her hair the wings, her are feet pointed at the back, the tail. Honestly, I'd never thought about my body as a fighter jet until right then. Fully multi-media, there is also a showing of Murakami's film work, coupled in one short film with Kanye West, as well as his bag designs for Louis Vuitton. He is the epitome of art in commerce. Or commerce in art.

We also visited a feminist exhibit and Japanese prints. In the feminist exhibition, a huge dining room was erected, the artist's impressions of the place settings famous women would have, Georgia O'Keefe, for example. Ironic. A feminist artist using such a home ec display to represent her celebration of and homage to women. The table is a huge triangle, too. There is no head of the table.

I loved the Japanese prints most of all. The sketch feeling, yet the work is so intricate and rich in color. Of all the art I've seen today, these may be my most favorite, or most near to my heart. They inspire the notion of romance, a life of tranquility, enjoyment, struggle, fighting for love and honor, and even still beauty.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

6 to 4

Happy birthday, Dad! Here's to 64!

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

"Into the earth they go, the lovely, the wise."

We buried Granddaddy today. He was covered with an American flag, which they folded and passed to my Nana. From what everyone has said, he would have wanted the service simple, respectful.

My aunt and uncle, Roxane and Ed, renovated Granddaddy's and Nana's house a few years back and it's so welcoming. I sat on the back deck and watched the sun set behind the house out into the mountains. While Lynchburg may not be the place for me, I can certainly see how it could be for another.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

The rents

On a lighter night, I finally got to meet my cousin Heather's son, Tyler. How adorable is he. Here, you judge.

How could you not love that face?

I got to ride in the back with him chilling in his car seat. What fun. And what an accomplishment, raising a son. I asked my cousin what it's like. She said, "I can't even remember what it was like without him." Cool. Parenthood. Family.

Friday, March 28, 2008

Recognized

So I got one of those calls tonight that you never want to receive. My mom, from Singapore. Her dad just passed. Granddaddy, Wyatt Edward Woody. May he rest in peace.

The last time I saw him was at my aunt Roxane's funeral 2 years ago. We spoke briefly, re-introductions. He had Alzheimer's and went in and out of memories. The last thing he said to me, in the last conversation we had, well, he remembered me. He asked me how New York was and my Aunt Pat's jaw dropped, at least, according to my mom. He hadn't shown signs of being too alert that day and, with all the people coming and going to pay respects for Roxane, it was understandable. But somehow he remembered me. I was touched. And surprised. And looking back now I'm overjoyed for such a moment.

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

What's next?

I met a kid at 7A last night who also loves traveling. He'd just gotten back from Central America and is working to save cash to take off and not come back. We're all over the world, aren't we? It's funny, though, what a privilege it is. I can go anywhere. Lots of people can't even leave their own cities.

His name is Greg. He just plugged my iPod into the system and is having a field day with my old school funk and grooves. Nice. A little Eazy E. He said it just made his night. God, I love it when you know you're supposed to be exactly where you are. These are the breaks.

Lately, I've been thinking about traveling the US. I haven't seen that much here in depth. I traveled across the country when in college but it was for speed not pleasure. I think I prefer pleasure over speed in general. HA! Something like a phenomenon.

I've also been considering Cuba. I worry that the bubble will be burst soon enough and it would be great to see it before that happens. In my mind, it still seems untouched, pure.

Monday, March 24, 2008

T - L = me

I came across the February issue of Travel + Leisure today and snagged it for the train ride home. Upon first glance, I was delighted at the find, hoping for hidden treasure. What did I find? Rubies and emeralds and diamonds, oh my! While I am the travel type, the leisure type I apparently am not. There were adventures listed galore, driving Argentina's lake district, the wonders of India, even mini write-ups of the 20 best places in the world to visit. Excellent! But upon further inspection, several of the rates started at $1095 per night. Cough, cough. Let me clear my throat.

Further reading caused more heartbreak. Since traveling last year in particular, I've hoped to continue expanding my knowledge and experience of and with this planet and its inhabitants, whether domestic or international. This magazine just helped me glimpse all of which I'll never be able to afford, even did I require a jacuzzi bath and bidet in all my bathrooms while traveling. And what's worse, I thought of all the people I have met, whether domestic or international, who can barely feed their families with what they make week to week, and I wonder. Are those who can afford this leisure happy? Are they happier than those who cannot? Are the haves really better off? And isn't it all relative? To many I am a have. And yet reading that magazine, I see myself as a have not much at all. Ultimately, I can't help but think. Is the catered life that much more worth living?