Nine Miles on a (mostly) Sunny Day

Today, our last day in Washington DC, we woke up to blue skies and sunshine. I left my favorite raincoat and floral, upside-down umbrella at the hotel and headed back downtown to visit … no, not the National Gallery of Art … but the Hirshhorn Museum.

Never heard of it? I hadn’t either. I did not even realize it was part of the Smithsonian, but I kept passing it walking to and from L’Enfante Plaza Metro stop and decided to check it out. What an AWESOME art museum of contemporary and modern art. The entire building is a circular in shape and each room flows neatly into the next. I saw works by John Singer Sargent, Max Ernst, Joan Miro’, and Georgia O’ Keeffe. My favorite installation was by Laurie Anderson, a multimedia artist. In 2021 the Hirshhorn invited Anderson to create a work on site, and over a period of two weeks she painted directly on the floors and walls of a large gallery. Using a stream-of-consciousness manner (and no preparatory sketches) she covered every inch with drawings, stories, song lyrics, poems, quotations, jokes, and commentary on current events. The installation’s title, Four Talks, refers to the four objects she included in the room—a raven, a parrot, a canoe, and a shelf. It was like walking around in her mind. So fascinating!

Switching gears, I then visited the Holocaust Memorial Museum. On my last two visits to Washington DC tickets were always sold out, but this morning I went online and managed to secure a timed entry ticket for mid-morning. You know how I mentioned the beautiful weather? That was a blessing because after spending almost three hours revisiting the horrors of the Holocaust, I needed sunshine, blue skies, fresh air, and smiley people. It is an intense museum, sad and horrifying and sobering, but one everyone should visit at least once.

After that museum I decided NO MORE MUSEUMS! Instead, I walked around the Smithsonian Castle, then to the Washington Monument, the WWII Memorial, and the Lincoln Memorial which—darn it!—was under renovation and Lincoln was covered up. I walked back up the mall toward the Capitol. Evidently, I do not listen to myself because I popped into the American History Museum just to see the Star-Spangled Banner (always, always impressive) and back to the Hirshhorn Museum to visit the gift shop.

Since I had walked almost 9 miles, I had planned to order a cappuccino and sit quietly in the Hirshhorn Sculpture Garden to wait for Joe so we could commute back to the hotel together. BUT. Remember that gorgeous weather? All of a sudden—POOF!—it disappeared. Away went the sun, in came the clouds, and rain was imminent. Guess who did not have her favorite umbrella and floral, upside-down umbrella?

So I ran to the Metro stop and hopped on a train just as the rain arrived. It seems fitting that our time ended as it began ... with rain. 

But, oh, do I love Washington DC. Until next time!

Metro Rain

This morning, we woke up to weather worse than had been predicted. The rain was torrential, the winds were blustery, the skies were ominous … and yet, I donned my favorite raincoat and grabbed my giant upside-down floral umbrella (technically an inverted umbrella) and walked to the metro station. I smiled the entire time. What an adventure! Walking in the rain! Splashing through puddles!

Thirty minutes later I had the distinct honor of being the very first patron to enter the National Gallery of Art.

Today I began in the East Building which houses modern and contemporary art. It is interesting going from Renaissance masters of Giotto, Da Vinci, and Titian to more contemporary artists such as Picasso, Cezanne, and Miro’. While yesterday was all about beauty and emotion, today was more analysis than emotion, like I had to work a little harder to understand what the artist was trying to convey. But that is just my opinion and we are all art critics. Yes?

At one point I was standing in front of a Jackson Pollack painting, Number One, 1950 (Lavendar Mist). I was THINKING about it, but not getting anywhere. But then a security guard approached and, using a tiny flashlight, showed me some hidden secrets of the painting: a raisin and a roach, both of which Pollack just painted right over. So, thanks to the nice security guard (and a raisin and a roach) I was illuminated.

But I have to say, modern and contemporary art can be fun (“Yellow Nana”), or interactive (in which you become part of the artwork), or leave you wondering how this could even be called art (“Condensation Wall” which was basically a large acrylic cube with distilled water dripping down, or “Glass Case with Pies” which was a rack of pies, just like you would see in any diner across America).

Pat Steir

Curtain Waterfall, 1991

By the afternoon I was back in the West Building for another tour of European art, during which I met some people from Italy. Right there in front of a Giotto painting … how cool was that?

Unfortunately, by late afternoon it was STILL pouring when I exited the museum, but undeterred I slogged through the adjacent sculpture garden because … what an adventure! Walking in the rain! Splashing through puddles!

That is, until the thunder and lightning and then I hightailed it to the metro station. On the ride home took this photo which I entitled: 

Metro Rain, M. Novajosky, 2024

Raining Cherry Blossoms

Today, it rained cherry blossoms.

We are in Washington DC for the week and, yes, it is cherry blossom time in our nation’s capital. But the trees that were in full bloom last week have, this week, been subjected to gusty winds and drenching rains which is why it has been raining petals.

But you know what? Despite the rain, the gusty winds, the falling petals, and the cold temperatures … I am in Washington DC!

My plans for this week are this: since Joe is working (today at the Pentagon) and my usual travel companion (he-who-hates-art-museums) is at UGA, I am visiting all the art museums. By myself. When does this ever happen? And I have three days to get it all in!

So, today I spent the ENTIRE day at the Smithsonian’s National Gallery of Art. I explored the West Building (European art), took a guided tour of Italian Renaissance art, read the placards, took notes, and had a lovely lunch in the museum café.  I walked over 14,777 steps through the galleries (including to and from our metro stop).

And here is the crazy part. I am going back tomorrow. I want to revisit a couple of the galleries and take a guided tour of Dutch art. Also, I still have to explore the East Building (modern and contemporary art) and the sculpture garden ... the latter with an umbrella because the forecast is calling for 90% chance of raining cherry blossoms. 

Ordinary Days

Buona Pasqua, everyone! After a Lenten social media fast, I am back.

When I decided to step away for a while I had hoped to use this time for creativity and writing projects, but having now emerged on the other side I can honestly say the exact opposite happened: no creativity, no writing. Oh, I kept a running list of writing prompts, and I added a few bad poems to my files of very bad poetry, but serious writing? It did not happen.

So what, you ask, did I do during this time?

I lived wholly and completely in the moment, embracing the Ordinary Days of working at Angevines, cooking wholesome meals, and baking bread. Joe and I watched The Chosen series. I took long walks along the canal, hosted Book Club, and did a lot of spring cleaning—purged closets, relined kitchen shelves, washed baseboards, and reorganized our pantry. I prayed daily, sometimes by the light of candle in the darkness before dawn, and sometimes while I was dusting a ceiling fan or making a grocery list. I read a lot of books and listened to John Denver songs.

Ordinary Days. Nothing earth-shattering. No spiritual awakening or dramatic transformation.

There were times when I felt guilty about not writing, about not doing more, and I worried that I was using routine and simplicity as an escape. But here is the truth: I relished the quiet and peace of those Ordinary Days. I found spiritual sustenance in quiet moments and peace in mundane tasks. 

To be sure, now that I have disclosed all this I need to backtrack because in the midst of those Ordinary Days we flew to San Francisco due to a perfect storm of Timothy’s spring break and a work trip for Joe. For three non-Ordinary Days, while Joe did engineering stuff, Timothy and I hiked Muir Woods, walked over the Golden Gate Bridge, and hopped on and off cable cars while exploring the city.  A little extraordinary in what was mostly an ordinary time. 

Here was my takeaway this Lent: Life does not always have be about something; sometimes, it just is. Life does not always mean searching for the next great entertainment; after all, a sunset is offered every evening. And we do not always have to be doing something meaningful, or grand.

 Because sometimes, cleaning out a closet is important, too.

Hearts and Ashes

This past weekend I was in the greeting card section in Publix looking for a Valentine card. I read card after card, trying to find one that was not goofy, or sappy, or corny, or inappropriate. All these cards expressing love, and I felt they were missing the point.

Now, I realize Valentine’s Day is a commercial extravaganza buoyed by red hearts, balloons, fluffy sentiments, chocolate, and champagne, but on a year in which Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday collide, in which the Hallmark trappings of hearts and balloons are juxtaposed with the introspection and sacrifice of Lent, every card I picked up seemed lacking.

I was flailing about on the surface when I was looking for depth.

Then came the Super Bowl which, according to a Nielson rating, made it the most viewed telecast since the moon landing in 1969. Headlines proclaiming TOUCHDOWN! did not refer to an event on the football field but to you-know-who’s airplane which had landed in time for kickoff. Instagram offered us glimpses of football players, dressed to the nines by their stylists, swaggering into the stadium with their bling, designer clothes, and Hollywood sunglasses. Even our president entered into the hoopla with an official White House announcement that he had joined TikTok.

In the words of a social commentator, we have become a society that likes to be entertained. What does this mean? We are inundated with the glitzy, glamorous, loud and outrageous—all offering a reality that is not real.

As I type this, two days after the Super Bowl and on the eve of both Valentine’s Day and Ash Wednesday, it is not lost on me that True Love is not found in the greeting card section, nor is it in the post-game kiss between a football player and a pop star. Instead, it is found in the absence of what society offers.

Because what society offers is Valentine’s Day, when what it needs is Ash Wednesday.

My Annual Super Bowl Commentary

In keeping with my yearly tradition of writing something about football for the Super Bowl, I present you with this year's post which will leave you feeling horrified or amused ... 

Once Upon a Time the boys were going through boxes in the attic and came across Joe's childhood sports books. Lots and lots of sports books, including The Encyclopedia of Football which is very helpful. For example, turn to Chapter 8: Football for Females (subtitled: How to Marry or Keep the Male Football Maniac).

Horrified? Amused? 

While you are pondering this, I am doing a Super Sophisticated Football Analysis to help me decide which team to support: 

-I have been to San Francisco, so the 49ers it is.

-But I have also been to Kansas City, so maybe the Chiefs.

-We have also toured Arrowhead Stadium, so Kansas City edges out.

-The Taylor Swift-Travis Kelce thing complicates things. The guys in the family are for the 49ers because they are so over the hoopla; however, I have Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce to thank for the fact that I can actually name some football players: Travis Kelce, his brother, Jason Kelce, Patrick Mahomes, and Brock Purdy. So there is that.

-As for mascots, Sourdough Sam or KC Wolf? According to Sports Illustrated Mascot rankings, they are ranked #22 and #23 respectively. Well. Okay, I say neither. Blue (Indianapolis Colts) is cuter, and I like Poe the Raven (Baltimore Ravens) because it is nice to have a literature component at a sports venue. 

Decisions, decisions.

Birthday Musings

Some might consider February to be one of the dreariest months. It is cold, it is gray, it is damp.

But if you know me, then you know how I like cold, and gray, and damp. I like rainy days. And February also means Valentine’s Day and World Nutella Day. And my birthday.

So, there you have it. February is a GREAT month.

This morning in our family WhatsApp group, in honor of my birthday my aunt posted a photo of me taken many years ago while studying abroad in Spain. We were at the Royal Palace of la Granja in Segovia, and posing with me are Michele (an Italian student from Padova) and David (who was in my study group)—and I only remember their names because my aunt also included the back of the photo where I had written these details.

Now, I do not know what happened to Michele, and the only thing I remember about David was that he was AWFUL in Spanish (like, REALLY REALLY awful),  but I look back at that young college student posing with these two guys and I have several thoughts: it was, for me, a good hair day; I was wearing a pair of navy, linen shorts I had purchased at the mall; OH MY GOSH I spent a summer in Spain; and that I loved that shirt.

What in the heck happened to that shirt?!?

But with old photos comes a little reminiscing and more than a little nostalgia. Memories are a funny thing. There are those you will remember to your dying day, those you want to forget, and those you did not mean to forget but did, and now you are trying to call them forth. Then there are the emotive memories, the ones that have been reduced to a single emotion—the happy, sad, embarrassing, funny, scary.

And this old photo reminded me of a time which held all the above.

The early twenties can be intense, you know?

Memories are also fluid. I can merge the memory of who I was then with who I am now, and despite the years that have passed I can say that today, on my birthday, I am one and the same: just a little older, none the wiser (but still learning), I still have crazy hair, my passport is always ready and waiting for the next great travel adventure …

and I still like that shirt.