In early May I flew with two dear friends to a third dear friend’s wedding. It was the most beautiful wedding I have ever been to and the joy of getting to be a part of it is still with me. The delight of being surrounded by those who love and support someone I so dearly love still brings me comfort months later.
On our way back home, we stopped in New York City for bagels, lush greenery, some life-list birds, and the Guggenheim. First, bagels.
Altogether we walked twelve miles that day meandering through Central Park and finding ourselves at the Guggenheim. Rain followed us the whole way as we wandered under the trees and arbors, spotting birds in the underbrush and buildings among the clouds.
The Guggenheim was everything I dreamed it would be and has re-invigorated my love of Frank Lloyd Wright’s work. Every surface and join is deliberate and simple resulting in an exquisitely balanced, gravity-defying space.
When the water fountains are as worthy of a photograph as the artwork, I sit up, take notice, and start planning my next visit to one of his buildings.
On the third floor we stumbled upon a vibrant gallery of art by New York City students. The time, care, energy, and hope that it took to place their art on the world stage makes me shaky with hope of my own. I believe so strongly in the importance of encouraging, listening to, and honoring children’s art work that walking through the midst of so much of it awed and delighted me.
Our time filled up quickly with second bagels, Chicago on Broadway, a peek at Time Square in the dark, a rooftop cocktail bar, more wandering, the bustle of Grand Central Station (a lesson in exorbitant and unapologetic taking up of space), and the New York Public Library.
A joy, a pleasure, a blur.