Friday, May 22, 2009 E "Tired but Happy" 5:00pm I'm tried beyond tired. But happy, happy, happy! I've given what's open of the renovated American wing a thorough perusal.

Sculpture on left is Frog Fountain, bronze, 1906, Janet Scudder (American, 1869–1940)
Sculpture on right is Boy and Duck, 1895–96; bronze, 1901, Frederick William MacMonnies (American, 1863–1937)

Column detail... Loggia from Laurelton Hall, Oyster Bay, New York, ca. 1905, by Tiffany

View of Oyster Bay Louis C. Tiffany (1848-1933) Tiffany Studios (1902-32), New York City Leaded Favrile glass Lent by the Charles Hosmer Morse Museum of American Art, L.2008.17

I love the Tiffanys. I remember when I was in college, my Dad took me to a Tiffany exhibit at the Art Institute in Chicago. (You know that's a place I'm going to visit some year soon. And the Oriental museum and...) Aren't I like that? The bothersome travel, the sore feet, so worth it. I also caught the European Bronze exhibit on its almost last day (24th). I happily snapped a lovely statue from the Louvre and was about to get the "thoughtful, yet lively" expression on one man's face (Houdon sculpture?) when the pesky guard found me and said, "No, No!" I'd entered the exhibit from the back end and didn't see the pesky sign posted at the front entrance. I thought about buying its exhibit catalogue, but our house is so full of books. "We cannot get any more! wails Julia. Of course we can, but I do wish to be judicious. I think I'll solve that dilemma of wanting to show Julia these amazing pieces by taking her to the Getty center when they show up in Los Angeles later this summer. Besides, a statue is best experienced in person. That said, I did walk around the American statues and snap from several angles.

Hiawatha, 1871–72; this carving, 1874
Augustus Saint-Gaudens (1848–1907)
Marble; Figure: 60 x 34 1/2 x 37 1/4 in. (152.4 x 87.6 x 94.6 cm)
Base (Granite base): 23 in. Other (Plinth with inscription): 5 3/4 in. (14.6 cm)
Gift of Diane, Daniel, and Mathew Wolf, in memory of Catherine Hoover Voorsanger, 2001 (2001.641)
(More details at gallery page)

There are seventeenth- and eighteenth-century period rooms beyond that door in the building facade...

     
Cleopatra, 1858; this carving, 1869
William Wetmore Story (1819–1895)
Marble; 55 1/2 x 33 1/4 x 51 1/2 in. (141 x 84.5 x 130.8 cm)
Gift of John Taylor Johnston, 1888 (88.5a–d)
(Larger views and more details at gallery page)

Oh my, I'm so tired. I'll call it quits for today. Tomorrow will have its activities and I want to be rested for them. Shall I be cheap and industrious? Or shall I be 'extravagant' and get a cab? Hm-m-m-m, I haven't visited the gift shop yet. (Later note, yes, the long walk to 86th and Lexington from 82nd and Fifth proved much too daunting. Cabs wait along Fifth avenue, knowing we will exit weary.) Friday, May 22, 2009 F "Can't Sleep" 10:25pm I'm finding it hard to sleep. The noisy street sounds are ridiculous, people yelling and cars honking. No, last night I didn't complain of this, for last night I had a different room. The desk clerk had suggested I might not be so happy with it because it lacked a sink. I would have to use the one in the common bathrooms. I agreed to a room change, but then forgot what I'd agreed to. The lack of a sink wasn't that big of a deal, because the room was right across from the bathrooms. Tonight, I discover what else that room lacked: noise coming in through the window. Its window faced a small space and then another wall. The motor for the elevator hummed a bit, but not that loudly... ...However, I'd agreed to the switch. The current room, along with its sink, does have a larger bed. I'll get used to it, the noisy street sounds will eventually settle down. Sunday, May 24, 2009 "Perfect Blending" 10:05pm No, I have not been journalling these past couple of days, but I just want to say is all aspects of the days added to each other and blended perfectly... ...and ever the patient, but persistent scarab pushes her growing ball to where ever it must go... ...Knowing is the need, the need of knowing, the unknown calls to me from the inky blackness of the yet-to-be. What-will-be waits for what direction I can give it. And now I turn my thoughts to tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day for the Museum of Modern Art. I feel this 'assignment' from my Higher Self: "Examine each piece. What does it say to you? Does it communicate in an effective 'language'. What is its language? Why does it work? If it does not work, why doesn't it work? In those pieces which you deem successful, what aspects can you incorporate into your own artwork?" Monday, May 25, 2009 A "More Messages to Myself" 3:38am "Consider then how the creation of art is creation of a gateway. This door that you might open, invisible, unseen, may yet be sensed by other artists as they begin the process of communication with their own Muses. A piece with which you struggle, which to you seems incomplete, imperfect, may thus have effects which you yourself may never know. If Need propels the creation of each piece, as you struggle towards power and beauty and truth, then the creation will have served its purpose. Point with your heart first, and the rest will follow." Monday, May 25, 2009 B "Waiting..." 10:20am I arrived at MOMA 10:10am. There was a long line of people gueued already. I couldn't stand to stand that long, so I wait on a soft gray rectangular seating area for us gimps. Me and my sore arthritic feet! Sigh! but I have arrived, after a lengthy walk. I suspect I might opt, as I did Friday, for the cab back to the hotel room. Perhaps because it's Memorial day is why this museum is so busy...

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