The trip to New York yesterday was a good one, if not long. We were up at 4:30 and stumbled home around midnight. The Gates was a fabulous installation, an experience that can’t really be contained in a few paragraphs. In some ways that was the point of it for me; it was impossible to get a hold on, yet at the same time asking me to stop and appreciate the beauty and preciousness of the moment in front of me. Longing, peace, belonging, change, and changelessness all at once.

Through happy fate both Varia and I ended up getting a small square of fabric from The Gates as a keepsake (excluding 1,000,000 small squares, the rest is going to be recycled). While it is as insufficient as the photographs I took to capture the experience, it is a satisfying memorabilis.

While in line for the MoMa, a woman with a friend and her child, looking at the line (which turned out to be swiftly moving) exclaimed ‘Let’s go. There’s nothing in there worth waiting in line for.” I cringed. Fortunately the huge number of people who disagreed heartened me greatly. Once inside, the MoMa was, as expected, overwhelming. Far too much to take in at once, especially when heavily medicated.

After being crushed by a room full of Kandinsky and stumbling onto the Starry Night (I could have sworn it was at the Louvre!) we retreated to the nearest bar and grill, which happened to be called Heartland Brewery. This was, I kid you not, a Midwestern-themed bar and grill, complete with a “field of greens” salad. Much mirth ensued — Heartland Nachos, did you know they existed? — and we were fortified enough for the four hour bus trip home.