It's my birthday month, and the first thing I want to do to celebrate this is to post as some of the first photos, the museum shop items from Magritte exhibit that were just too fabulous for words, and remember this delicious time when my mother came to visit me in Manhattan, we went up to the MoMA and JUST wanted to go to the Museum Store on 52nd Avenue and ditch the Picasso exhibit completely. It was a fabulous adult giggle moment between us, and it was Mutti who encouraged us to do the exhibit, I'm pretty sure she said, "We will feel better ... ", with one of her beautiful smiles.
Celebrating for a month sounds better and so it instantly feels better. The month is speckled, not slathered, with sweet events, and July 1st sister-mine took me to the SF MoMA, and lunched and bathroomed me. They should be verbs here, because the food is always SO amazing (kale too salty this time, but otherwise heaven), and we went into the bathroom that was green, which was my first time ... Happiness happiness happiness.
Which is amazing, because the last 10 days G and I entered a new tunnel which felt like our vanishing point was getting smaller, and we were walking into it. Transitions are horrible, I whined and threw the usual adult temper tantrum about getting what I want and wanting it now. Posting anything here felt stupid and pointless, so this is me again, in the spiritual journey of being given a challenge and working my way through it. I swear S plans her trips to Germany for 3 weeks intentionally just to have me do it on my own. Breathe, Ground, Be Grateful, Play, Surrender. I was not breathing, or being grateful, or playing or surrendering. I mean not even for one moment.
And, the worst, I was faking it at the museum, which was completely bugging me because it's theoretically one of my favorite places on earth, and I was feeling over it. THIS is "the work".
So somehow TRUST into the void, if you can't pull a piece of positivity out of yourself even WHILE being in the moma or the green bathroom or the amazing exhibit, then ride it out. Wait. The waiting is hell. And it's key.
Because at some point, there are inner shifts ... The feelings pass, the inspiration comes back and I can post this WITH gratitude and a sense of play by the Magritte underwear, the interactive Magritte paintings, the apple recreations in the cafe, and the abstract body part sketches in that hallway exhibit which has become my favorite exhibit space in the museum because it's the most unconventional and contemporary ....
Noticing now quickly as I rush to post:
wishing I could write up everything my sister said ... Her beautiful way of being a docent;
the pipe paintings "This is not a pipe" + "This is still not a pipe";
the beautiful blue walls;
my beautiful boyfriend who has even with his own burdens, produced big picture visions and in the moment silliness while we were in a tunnel and my tunnel was more squished than his (?) ....
and most of all, just that art is healing ... Even in my numbness, it was reading and listening to Magritte's process for his art, not the technical part, but the context of a war, and all the ways his artwork is an expression of what he observed at the time. There's just nothing better than having that connection ...
So today I'm so grateful that I made the move to this place ... Am grateful. Now. :)