friday had a really bad start: slow, hard to concentrate on work, stuck in MoMA being hungry, went out for food and ended up sitting in a place where chinese people serving japanese food. the food tasted like I made it.
by 5 o’clock finished work and took the E train but got off at the wrong stop, and went up the wrong stairs. finally entered the Met at 6:15 when I got a call from Frank. I was ranting: I need you need you today!!!
but i was not at Met for him, I was for a "Rosandee Museum Night." people from Prof. Rosand’s seminar last semester got together for a guide tour of the closing exhibit "Beyond Babylon" by one of our classmates Celet who specializes in the Mesopotamian art. The exhibition was a collection of fine objects, I would say, if I did not listen to my classmate’s explanation. She was eloquent and knew so much, so deep, so well about her field. Those jewelries and figures became a narrative, unfolding a vivid story in front of us. I was watching her, listening to her low voice. how could she be so smart, so intelligent, so knowledgable? In contrast, I knew so little about Japanese art, or Chinese art….
the dinner after. We have realized that Rosand is a great professor. his teaching style was so simple, his assignment of reading was so light, but his influence was so profound, the way of looking at art, the way of analyzing it. also, he created the best atmosphere ever, we, identified ourselves as the Rosandees, and we formed a group identity. He really taught us how to learn from each other, from so distinctively different fields: medieval, Mesopotamia, renaissance, japanese, indian, ancient rome… we began to know people. I realized that I am surrounded by some really really smart people, who are smart, diligent and super organized. I know exactly their type: the good student who is really good at learning, no matter what that is: art history, math, tennis or musical instruments. They are intense, and aware of their intensity with efforts to be nice.
we continued our drinks at Zach and Will’s apartment. the third time visit. This time Will played guitar singing country songs. as time passed we became to know that Robert had a band, Celet god an honor degree in math, Zach played fiddle, Frank was sent to Britain three times for summer English camps. and Will, he is just an artwork.
1 o’clock, on the roof, watching the night view, condemning Damien Hirst…. the more I drink the more I tend to be quiet. smile, listen, and drink; i don’t really like talking. Frank is the opposite. laughing, listening, enjoying, for the first time on this land, I feel like I am fixing into the friend’s domain, doing what a circle of friend usually does Friday night. They are impressively smart.
3 o’clock, got out and went home, left with one question: why am I the only one getting depressed? smart people don’t get depressed. and they don’t have time wasting on that.
I will drive a plane and disappear in the dessert in my 49. Before that, live and learn everyday. learn pottery, learn playing guitar, learn dancing, learn stuff I don’t know, learn stuff I supposed to know better than anyone else.