Meanderings of my mind in the National Gallery on a Sunny Sunday afternoon.

What I do not understand is the mentality of rushing through museums, I mean I understand the appeal of seeing 'all of it'  but what is the point of seeing it all if you don't soak it in. I mean, I am not opposed to the notion of breezing through one exhibit or another but I don't like the mentality of seeing everything in one day. For me I prefer to walk slowly and take it in. To think, to reflect, to look at those other onlookers around me. I like to engage with the exhibits, and if I don't see it all that is ok, years from now I won't remember all of the art in the National Gallery, I will only remember a feeling I got while looking at a few particular pieces. I will remember the gut reaction to Monet and the Van Gogh, I will remember the stillness of the life-like luminescence of a Da Vinci, and I will forever remember fan-girling at every Botticelli because he's my man.  I will recall thinking about the people these painting have seen; the gawking and loud, the quiet observers, the bored children, the intrigued preservationists, and the probably hundreds of security guards day in and day out. I won't remember moments of breezing through -moments of dizzying confusion as I get lost time and time again, and that is ok. I am here for my experience, and I don't like to be rushed. It is nice to see everything, but it is way nicer to see a few things more deeply.  Today I have spent a good portion of my afternoon doing just that, wondering around the National Gallery- trying to take it in and not take too many pictures. Laughing with security guards ( who tell hilarious jokes) and reminding myself to not take myself so seriously. I am reflecting on my more quiet moments, decompressing from NYC, and mentally preparing myself to go back to Oregon, then back to Spokane, and more broadly back to a life that I often write off as mundane and/or uninteresting. With the ever looming promise of my last semester of undergrad ahead I am trying to not get caught up in busy stress, I am trying to remind myself to be intentional with my thoughts and actions and to remember to take each day as the gift that it is and to slow down, much the same way I am trying to do today. Not rushing, not pushing... Just being, and engaging. I think I often miss the mark on this one but, I am as ever trying to improve. I'm not sure why I felt compelled to post this, but I did. I hope you've enjoyed the meandering a of my mind on a Sunday afternoon. 

People on display: a reaction to an exhibit

Today I had the opportunity to take a few minutes to wander around the Smithsonian's natural history museum. The exhibits, were incredible and I plan on returning as soon as I can to stay more than 45 minutes, however I found myself struck to the core when I happened to cross paths which the Egyptian exhibit.  If you didn't know, Egypt is working hard to re-claim objects, artists, mummies and the like that were taken without Egyptian consent during the colonial periods and the exploration era of Egypt. The exhibit in the Smithsonian was small, a bit of a hallway and a room, connecting the Dinosaurs to the bug room. In the hall way, in glass cases are three mummies. Two men, and a child. All in their own cases kept with object in the tombs, with little info plaques and pictures. My stomach sunk, and I felt sick. Looking at these people, or rather what is left of three people lying in cases having tourists gawking, yelling and pointing. I felt a disease that I haven't felt often before, but it was a sense of ' I don't belong here' I am not Egyptian, I am not a scientist. I am an interested student, but I am looking at dead people. Human beings that once lived, thought, made decisions , ate, drank, slept, had relationship issues, daily frustrations and who probably gawked and strange sights too. These were people, and here smacked between two exhibits that attracted tons of people they were laid and being stared at and having pictures taken. The din of exclamations from the entire area was full of disgust at dried flesh and dead people and the excitement of little kids squeezing and just general alive sounding museum noise. This somehow seemed disrespectful to me; maybe it was that these bodies were on display at all. In a museum, not where they belonged- in an Egyptian museum at the very least. But maybe more so the realisation that so many of the people there were experiencing this exhibit- and further more viewing these people's bodies with such a loud and gawking manor. These are the bodies of people. Please. Have some respect. It just felt wrong. 

Interning in DC

These past few weeks have been awesome, I have been interning at the National Museum of the American Indian in DC as a research assistant intern interpreting visitor comments and making them into a useable understandable summery of each month the exhibit has been up. It's been tedious but interesting,  I loose my faith in humanity and then gain it again multiple times a day. My co-interned agrees, people can be awful when they write comments. Not even criticism of the museum or of the exhibit. They write racist, hate filled things, or they draw penis's all over the page, or and perhaps even the worst they scribble out others comments to it is impossible to decipher. But then other people are amazing, they write compelling praises and criticism. Thoughtful, really meaningful conversation gets started and I feel privileged to get to read it. Some comments are personal stories, some are not. But all are actually written with care, which is incredibly refreshing after a packet ( the comments are taken every two ish weeks an put in a folder and new paper is put on desplay) with penis drawing, scribbles, and prophanoty. Children's  comments are my favorite, they are incredibly cute most of the time but most often they are some of the most thoughtful writers that use the comment books. They really want to be heard, and they really want to say something. I always feel lucky to find these gems. It makes me feel good that really young kids understand the basics of the message of the exhibit. That's all I have to write now, perhaps later I'll add more about what I have seen in DC these last two weeks, and the adventures I have had. Below are just a few of my more favorite comments I found in the first week.