Woman of visions

Well, as far as I’m concerned, I’m not here to have a normal life.

I’m sent here on a mission . . . I came here as a man of visions.

-Howard Finster, 1984

Spiritual.  That’s the word for the day.  And not a spiritual that I can assign words to, I shall try, however, I doubt that today could be understood by anyone but myself. 

The above quote appeared on the wall at the American Art Museum.  I wish to modify it to say “I came here as a woman of visions.”  Hopefully, I can live up to some portion of that challenge; the challenge that for whatever reason I have the thoughts/ ideas/ convictions that I do.  The challenge that I don’t brush those convictions under the rug and instead strive for money or “things.”  The challenge that I can envision a different future and want to be a part of that change.  The challenge that while change can be scary, it can also be invigorating.  The challenge of handling all life delicately and treating it with respect.

My day began with a not-so-short 2.5 mile walk with my bike to get the flat tire (here is why it was flathttp://thesummeridaredindc.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-1-museum-marathon.html) fixed on my White Steed.  $130 in lights, extra locks, and other D.C. bicycle necessities later, I pedaled off towards the National Mall.  My first stop was the Bureau of Engraving and Printing.  I remain so very thankful that I did this first; it would have thrown off the spiritual nature of the day had I thrown in it in the middle.  Money.  That’s what that tour was about.  And moving on.

From there I pedaled to the National Archives.  I had no idea what was in store for me.  I had little luck in finding a bike rack, so after having a police officer assure me that it was ok to chain it to anything that was bolted down, I, with my ultra steal proof, new lock, double locked my bike to a Metro stop sign.  I stood in a short line and entered the archives.  It’s amazing how easy it is to get inside these buildings and then once you are in there, it’s a free-for-all.  They stop herding cattle the second you get through security.  I moseyed my way up to the Rotunda. 

Apparently, I’m a rarity and like to read the little sign posts that are placed everywhere as people behind me kept getting annoyed, saying “hey, um, the line is way up there.”  To which I responded “yes, I’m aware, you can go around; I’m reading the information that was placed here for us to read.”

Anyway, after a brief life-threatening speech from an ominous, plump black female security guard, whom I would not want to mess, we were allowed to enter the Rotunda.  I chose to go right since the group was about 50 people and knowing that, for the most, party people break left.  I viewed the letters between John Adams and his wife, as well as some other old artifacts, and of course all the information that was included. 

The left hand side had cleared out, so I made my way over. 

The Declaration of Independence was moving.  It was amazing to see such an old, and history-making item and for it to be so close, albeit behind glass and all sorts of controlled equipment.  However, I would have it no other way, preserve it for as long as possible.

I was floored by the Constitution.  I stood in awe.  Utter and complete awe.    An unwavering awe, an awe that I can’t describe.  So forward I moved, after regaining composure.

The Bill of Rights.  I’m not sure how those around me felt about my behavior, but I was comfortable with it.  Maybe I’m just intoxicated with two days of being a tourist in my Nation's Capitol.  Maybe I really am a lawyer, or becoming one.  Maybe I’m more patriotic than I give myself credit for.  Maybe I feel lucky to be in my life, at this very moment.  Maybe I actually learned something in Criminal Procedure and, now, find it my job now to protect these rights.  These Rights that are right in front of me.  These Rights that were drafted so long ago but still hold true.  These Rights that through our judicial system have afforded us, as citizens, so much individualism and liberty.  These Rights that matter. 

And then a tear.  I did not sob or cause a scene; however, I did tear up and cry.  I initially was not going to share this, but this moment set a course for my day that changed me at some core level.  Or maybe not changed me, as much as illuminated something deep down inside.  Something that I knew was lurking but was unsure of exactly what it was or how to use it.  So I stared, with teary eyes, at the Bill of Rights.  I meditated and briefly thought on all the souls (human and nonhuman see this http://m.apnews.com/ap/db_16026/contentdetail.htm?contentguid=q95c7C0y) who have sacrificed so much, all in the name of what these Rights stand for.  A sacrifice in the name of a greater good.  So there I was with no tissues and bleary eyed, I embraced it and walked away. 

Next, I rode to the Hirshhorn Gallery.  This is the Contemporary Art collection of the Smithsonian.  Again, walking in I had no clue what I was about to undergo.  There were two exhibits in particular.  One by Grazia Toderi and the other by Laurent Grasso; both are a mixed media experience.  They incorporate a visual screen production with music.  I sat and watched Grazia Toderi’s for so long that the security guard ran me off. 

The Grasso exhibit was breathtaking.  The things that you think of when you sit and stare at screen with, what to me, was the sound of wind blowing.  The images change and your thoughts move with the change, it was very natural and surreal, at the same time.  The art was everything it should have been.  The thoughts it inspired may not come to be for a while but something happened in those dark rooms.  Something about the images portrayed, the darkness, the sound, and the solidarity of my experience made some change.  Some idea that is gurgling deep in my soul.  My hope is that I know what to do with it when it starts to boil. 

The images in both exhibits were a combination of sky, nature, and city shots, as well as, an abstract, almost star-like view of what I thought to be city lights.  Yes, you should go experience this, even if you don’t “get” art.

Back to the White Steed I go.  My plan initially was to go to the National Cathedral, however when Google Maps showed me that the International Spy Museum was on the way, I thought I would stop.  Well, then I saw the American Art Museum and ventured in there. 

Seeing an actual Warhol painting was neat, seeing priceless artwork was amazing.  I will be revisiting this place, as there is too much for one viewing.  Literally, four floors of too much.  It is in the old Patent Office Building.  It’s huge.  I stumbled upon some naturalist paintings and was amazed.  Two, in particular, were incredible.  They were so perfect and precise.  Photographs don’t capture life and natural beauty the way these paintings did.  And then I looked down and the date listed for its creation was 1873.  Yeah, I took a step back and continued to stare.

I could not grasp the motion of my day.  The Universe had something in mind and I was just along for the ride, so I strapped in and held on. 

Final stop for the day was the National Cathedral.  After a long huff up a wonderful hill on Massachusetts Avenue, I arrived.  Staring up at that amazing Cathedral humbled me.  Walking around the grounds made me ever more grateful than I have been over the last 24 hours, and I’ve been pretty freaking grateful.  To the front doors I went, I walked inside the main chapel and stood.  That’s all I could do.  The stone and glass, the size, the permanence (and impermanence of the whole structure given time and natural forces), the holiness of the area, the fact that some great men and women have walked down this very same aisle, the fact that this Sunday I can attend if I so choose.  I stared and contemplated.

I hijacked my way onto a tour that was being conducted and found out some interesting facts.  But I broke off, and found a seat in the Chapel, and I sat.  Sat and stared.  Sat and meditated.  Sat and breathed it all in.  Sat and put every good vibe I had and every positive energy of my day into the future, into human rights, into animal rights, into making the world a better place.  Into continuing to be a good person and maybe becoming a great person.

I’m sent here on a mission, I came here as woman of visions.

And like a holy relic
Or a mystery novel
I thumbed them in the dim light
Searching for a clue-
--Regina Spektor