While I was NYC, I decided art was more important than lunch. I was only there for four days and the majority of it was for work purposes. But the thought of being in the city and not going to a museum was eating me up inside. Even if it was for an hour, I just had to go. There's something about it that feels like home to me. The white walls, the echoing voices, the work.
Art is a language I understand far more than words. Yes, I'm a blogger. Yes, I mostly write and engage for a living. Believe it or not, it takes going outside of myself to do what I do. I can be a bit closed off. I've spent most of my life drawing in my room, wandering museum halls, reading about art or spending countless hours alone creating, painting and day dreaming -- Until I finally made a career out of it in the museum field. As a lecturer and studio instructor, the conversations were about art, the process of creating and being in the moment. Now I'm in a world where the conversations have expanded into everything and anything online and off. Most times I really don't know what to say or how to say it. I have a love/hate relationship with my phone and feel the art of communication is becoming empty. It overwhelms me at times. There's a side of me that still wants to preserve the power of 'less is more', the truth we find in silence and the act of being still. This short visit to MoMA brought me back to that quiet space I miss so much. It brought me back to the conversations that required no speaking, sharing or explaining. It centered me. When I feel like things are out of control, I find answers in Pollock. When I need order and rationale, I find it in Flavin. It's more effective for me than calling a girlfriend up to dish on the latest. I'm happy I took this time for myself by myself. I think I stared at Rousseau's The Sleeping Gypsy for most of the visit. It's so tranquil, poetic and soothing. Precisely why museums are my best friend and what I call upon when I need to make sense of things. It was the first art museum I ever went to as a child. It holds a special place in my heart. Thank you MoMA.