my brain’s been feeling hollow lately: too much ptydepe and too little musing (the massive move and the flu haven’t helped). how great, then, that yesterday evening, i got to hang out with some arty friends and engage in some of my favorite arty exploits.
first off, i tipped my hat to all the other feds and snuck out early to join terry and his bride at the phillips collection, my favorite DC museum. terry was joined by several of his fellow NEA council members, including makoto fujimura, over whom i’ve been mooning for several years. i managed to keep it together long enough to shake his hand, tell him how great i think he is, and turn to the frankenthaler without blushing.
it was wonderful to wander the phillips again, especially in the company of artists and critics who gaped over rothko, braque, and cezanne like kids transfixed at the zoo. it was wonderful, too, to wander with terry, who first introduced me to the phillips, and his new wife, whom he loves so much that he truly *is* glowing. it is good to see a friend find love.
visiting the phillips is like visiting a childhood haunt — except that it’s a childhood haunt i didn’t find until i was a fresh-faced, 22-year-old midwestern transplant. i’d never hailed a taxi or tasted rugulach, and i’d never learned how to love meandering from room to quiet room of an art museum. i remember staring, completely confused, at cezanne’s last painting, trying to see something — anything! – while terry recited to me the painting’s history, meaning, and life, and then fell wrapt and silent.
this time, though, i could *see* the cezanne: the fermenting colors, the lifting blue strokes, all as brisk and evocative as a real, ruddy garden – all the more urgent, perhaps, because the painter knew it would be his last canvas. as terry took off his glasses and leaned forward, i realized that i was leaning in, too: not in mimicry, but in satisfaction. looking over and seeing his gaze, it reminded me again how grateful i am to have discovered older friends who, like surrogate siblings, share their lives with me.
then i had to cut out early.
“what?” terry said as i kissed him on the cheek.
“i’m having dinner with alice mcdermott,” i said, feeling absurdly arty.
“oh fine,” he said, “i guess that’s a good enough reason.”
then i jumped on the metro and headed for dinner with alice, a grad school professor, and two writer friends. it was wonderful to be with them: to forget about the cube, the files, the Grants Office, and get swept into conversations about what we’ve been reading, writing, and angst-ing over in our creative lives.
between the phillips, the good food, and the sangria, i feel like a new person, refueled and ready to return to the doldrums of the forgotten quadrant.
fiscal year 2008 – here i come.
4 Comments
November 3, 2007 at 4:22 pm
here’s a thought for your lately hollow brain: I am an adult sponsor and member of the cabinet for a high-school youth festival called CRY (Christian Regional Youth) which happens during the summer. Just this weekend we had our first cabinet meeting this weekend and here was one interesting idea for a workshop that one of the youth had: Jesus in Art.
Unfortunately, it didn’t make the cut for workshops, but i though it was a cool thing that some kid came up with.
November 3, 2007 at 4:25 pm
alright… i just had this long interesting comment written in this little box and clicked submit and it didn’t work. so does this absolve me from posting for a while?
November 4, 2007 at 3:10 pm
tom, that is so cool. you should direct the CRY kid to http://www.imagejournal.org. they are as serious about beauty as they are about theological inquiry, and they host cool things like their 2007 Glen Workshop, which brought together jewish, muslim and christian artists and critics. they also have a summer undergrad fellowship for which they are now taking applications … hm … maybe the CRY kid would be interested?
November 5, 2007 at 4:26 pm
I love to read your written words. Such a good writer, my dear friend. Also, I love the thought of Terry’s wedding and that you were able to enjoy it so much in the company of some of the greatest artists in the world. You make me smile from ear to ear.