Powell Street stop was not the closest BART station we could have got off, but it was nice to walk downtown. We walked through the movie theater and then Yerba Buena park, where people were laying on the grass, having picnics. A guy was playing his guitar and from my angle it looked as if he was under the water fountain, repeling the falling water. There were parents running after their kids and three girls in bikinis cracking up. They looked like they could barely breathe they were laughing so hard. What fun, I thought. I want to laugh that hard.
We made it to the museum. The line was wrapped around the building with what looked like nearly 100 people in line.
Sophie was already on the phone calling her friend.
“Hi, Mark? It’s Sophie. Christa - oh okay, thanks!” she hung up, “He said to go the front door and he will let us in.”
“I feel bad. Look at all these people waiting,” I mumble.
“I know, but you have to look at it as an opportunity.”
We snaked around and there he was at the front. At least the line wraped around the gift shop with glass windows to keep people entertained, I thought. If the gift shop is filled with great items to look at, it is a wonder what art there is in store for the public.
Sophie hugged him like she knew had known him forever.
“Hi Mark!” she said.
“Hi, long time no see,” he said.
“It’s been a while. Thanks for getting us in,” she smiled, “Mark, you remember my friend Elizabeth?”
“Yah, I think I’ve seen her before. It was at your house,” Mark speculated.
Oh, no, I thought, here is comes.
“Yah, you came to Sophie’s with Andrew, right?” he asked.
“Yes, that was me,” I said.
“That was a long time ago,” he said.
“Yup,” I said.
Awkward.
“Well, I got to get back to work,” Mark said, “follow me.”
He took us to the coat check where we put our purses. There was a mother standing in line with her daughter on her back in a backpack carrier arguing with the woman at the coat check. The mother couldn’t understand how a backpack was more dangerous in a museum than a stroller. She eventually gave up and accepted the stroller the museum provides.
Mark handed us a map of the museum, “Have fun! Good seeing you two.”
“Thanks again Mark,” Sophie said.
“Yah, thanks,” I said.
We made it to the museum. The line was wrapped around the building with what looked like nearly 100 people in line.
Sophie was already on the phone calling her friend.
“Hi, Mark? It’s Sophie. Christa - oh okay, thanks!” she hung up, “He said to go the front door and he will let us in.”
“I feel bad. Look at all these people waiting,” I mumble.
“I know, but you have to look at it as an opportunity.”
We snaked around and there he was at the front. At least the line wraped around the gift shop with glass windows to keep people entertained, I thought. If the gift shop is filled with great items to look at, it is a wonder what art there is in store for the public.
Sophie hugged him like she knew had known him forever.
“Hi Mark!” she said.
“Hi, long time no see,” he said.
“It’s been a while. Thanks for getting us in,” she smiled, “Mark, you remember my friend Elizabeth?”
“Yah, I think I’ve seen her before. It was at your house,” Mark speculated.
Oh, no, I thought, here is comes.
“Yah, you came to Sophie’s with Andrew, right?” he asked.
“Yes, that was me,” I said.
“That was a long time ago,” he said.
“Yup,” I said.
Awkward.
“Well, I got to get back to work,” Mark said, “follow me.”
He took us to the coat check where we put our purses. There was a mother standing in line with her daughter on her back in a backpack carrier arguing with the woman at the coat check. The mother couldn’t understand how a backpack was more dangerous in a museum than a stroller. She eventually gave up and accepted the stroller the museum provides.
Mark handed us a map of the museum, “Have fun! Good seeing you two.”
“Thanks again Mark,” Sophie said.
“Yah, thanks,” I said.
We started by walking up the stairs and straining our necks around the 40 foot, hanging from the ceiling down to the floor sculpture. What it is supposed to mean I’m not exactly sure, but that’s art. From what I can observe, the artist grabbed what was left from a stale garage sale and glued the once treasured pieces together and painted it entirely red. I wonder if that was all he or she wanted to present, or - with a more abstract meaning - the representation of America’s so-called junk forgotten about and left to clog up land fills and while so many other humans run without the matching shoe?
The first piece of art that truly caught my eye was a large surface covered with different photographs of the sun and in no particular order. There were sunsets and sunrises and high noon too. It was beautiful. I was now fully thankful for Sophie dragging us out here today when I could have easily stayed at home on my day off and left my mind to wander about what I don’t have in life and how I’m too lazy to work for. In my defense however, I read once that laziness is meditation and a time for contemplation. One point for me.
We moved into the next room. The mother that was arguing downstairs was now full of smiles in front of a red, glossy - I believe plastic - wall hanging, taking a picture of her and her daughter’s reflection together. She would have had a hard time capturing her daughter in the picture with her on her back. Walking to the next painting I saw Sophie fixated. I stood next to her to see what she was seeing.
“Isn’t this great,” Sophie declared.
“Totally,” I agreed.
“Look at this woman with her coffee in hand. You can just feel the utter enjoyment in her from that first sip. She is wholly content with her morning ritual.”
“I love the colors,” I added, dimwittedly.
“Maybe we could head to the cafe downstairs after. I would love to reenact this scene in real life,” Sophie tittered.
Sophie is an interesting person and everything is beautiful to her. Life is full of time to have fun and be in the moment. I don’t think many people can do this. In fact, I am one of them. Like I said before I would not have done half the things I have done without Sophie’s encouragement and persuasivness. In fact, I don’t really do anything at all when I’m not with Sophie. I wouldn’t have gone to a museum today and even if I thought of the idea, I would not have called Sophie, or anyone for that matter, to join me. I love company, but I’m too embarrassed to really ask anyone to join me. We floated around for a while. Up and over hardwood floors and past large, bright floor to ceiling windows. We wrote down quotes on a scratch of paper and tied it to a tree sculpture with a bit of twine that was open to the public. I scribbled a line my father always said to me, “We live by the choices we make.” Sophie wrote, “Let us smile a thousand smiles.” Always a poet.
We went down to the cafe after our venture through the museum and drank a cappuchino. Sophie forgot all about the painting of the woman with her coffee, or at least she didn’t mention it while we were sipping our coffee. I remembered, but I didn’t bring it up.
“Want to see a movie?” I asked, tyring to be as spontaneous as Sophie is always.
“It’s such a beautiful day. Sitting in a dark movie theatre doesn’t sound like the right thing to do,” she said.
“Yah, I guess you’re right.”
“Let’s just start walking.”
We walked across the street and back into Yerba Buena park. The laughing girls were gone, but the man with his guitar played on.
“Let’s sit for a moment,” Sophie suggested.
We lay down in the park’s grass. It was an unusually warm day for the city. The wind usually moves through with a chilled push. Today the sun was bright and inviting. Silence encompassed our gathering. For a while I wondered if Sophie would interrupt the moment, but when she did not share a word, I allowed my mind to rest along with my body. We fell back with legs extended onto the soft grass.
Laying out there was incredibly wonderful. Alone in my world, well except for a tennis ball that knocked my hip. I was startled again when the dog came running to retrieve its ball and then ran off in the direction of its guardian. I turned to face the waterfall sculpture. The sun was shining on the water leaving it twinkling like a thousand engaged woman showing off their committment. There were a few trees to border my view creating a perfect camera shot. A helicopter was flying over. The sun was beating down on us turning me a shade darker. From where we lay, there was no one to see. There are voices in the distance, but nothing interpretable.
At this pace, it make take years before anything gets done. But, this is another Sophieism: to relish in my surroundings. No need to hurry she’ll tell me, just lie back, resting everything.
This may then solidify another one of my theories: if we are happy and content with our lives than we will not seek to check off a bucket list. For all those incredibly miserable times where I have longed for something greater, all I needed to do was meditate on happiness. No, no.
“Yah, I guess you’re right.”
“Let’s just start walking.”
We walked across the street and back into Yerba Buena park. The laughing girls were gone, but the man with his guitar played on.
“Let’s sit for a moment,” Sophie suggested.
We lay down in the park’s grass. It was an unusually warm day for the city. The wind usually moves through with a chilled push. Today the sun was bright and inviting. Silence encompassed our gathering. For a while I wondered if Sophie would interrupt the moment, but when she did not share a word, I allowed my mind to rest along with my body. We fell back with legs extended onto the soft grass.
Laying out there was incredibly wonderful. Alone in my world, well except for a tennis ball that knocked my hip. I was startled again when the dog came running to retrieve its ball and then ran off in the direction of its guardian. I turned to face the waterfall sculpture. The sun was shining on the water leaving it twinkling like a thousand engaged woman showing off their committment. There were a few trees to border my view creating a perfect camera shot. A helicopter was flying over. The sun was beating down on us turning me a shade darker. From where we lay, there was no one to see. There are voices in the distance, but nothing interpretable.
At this pace, it make take years before anything gets done. But, this is another Sophieism: to relish in my surroundings. No need to hurry she’ll tell me, just lie back, resting everything.
This may then solidify another one of my theories: if we are happy and content with our lives than we will not seek to check off a bucket list. For all those incredibly miserable times where I have longed for something greater, all I needed to do was meditate on happiness. No, no.
Happiness is unattainable.
A sustained happiness is unrealistic. If happiness is our goal we will forever be disappointed. As humans, we can never sustain happiness. We work in grooves and we will always have low points, even if they do not last a long time. We cannot hope to find happiness and have it fulfill our dreams.
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