Birthday lunch of chicken shawerma on the steps of the Met: $8
The amount given to get into the Met, disregarding the strongly recommended $18: $7 (Aikido buddy J scoffed, saying that he gives a dollar and that if the museum is ever hurting for cash, they can just sell one of their $12 million paintings. He has a good point.)
The value of seeing art borrowed, bought, or stolen from around the world and the depths of time: You know.
I’m amazed and grateful one is allowed to take photos in there. While a picture of Wheatfield with Cypresses doesn’t have the same effect as standing in front of Van Gogh’s canvas, I’m still pleased as punch to have my standing there recorded.
Our living art is to constantly alter what we perceive: adding, subtracting, reframing, coloring. I look at the walls of an Egyptian temple that was buried, dug up, broken down, hauled across the sea, and rebuilt in New York City, decorated with 5000 b.c. hieroglyphs and 1800’s graffiti. My height, my memories, my camera, and my computer shift stone. Nothing survives unchanged.