Monday, September 6, 2010

September, 6th




Today was Labor Day, and like most holiday Mondays the Met was open, instead of being closed like it normally is.

I headed in the direction of the Monets, feeling as if I needed some impressionism in my life. I wrote in several different rooms today but stayed within the Annenberg Collection.



The above painting by Monet, The Bodman Oak, Fotainebeau Forest, 1865 caught my eye, so I read the blurb which began ordinarily but ended with this "The slash in the upper right hand corner may have been made by Monet, who reputedly mutilated some canvases in order to discourage a landlord from seizing them in 1866". I looked long and hard for the slash which I couldn't see.

One young girl, carried by her grandfather, expressed loudly in front of Monet's Water Lillies that she would "Like that one at home".

In the gallery where I wrote the poem posted below, a young woman in a pretty dress and a hijab was with an older woman wearing Capri pants, who kept taking pictures of the younger woman. Later that day after leaving my friend's West Village apartment I ran into the younger woman who acknowledged me with a smile before I recognized her.

At Sailors Delight, take Warning

We bear these days of red skies, try to search for clues
realign bodies, the lack of rain stretching out weeks. Long sleeve
shirts, jeans, hats piled on; we strip at night,

reveal bodies brown as peach pits. Nothing keeps
the sun out, still the earth is no warmer than it was.
I chart it nightly. My father searches books
for explanations, combs footnotes for skeleton keys.

In the valley he strings oranges from trees, lights fires
underneath, shifts the oranges axis every day or two,
records the browning spots. My sons burnt
their clothes last week and spend hours blending
into trees, deer hunting. They smile more now,
teeth a shocking white.




Factors
Day of the Week: Holiday Monday
Occupancy of Museum: Bearably busy.
Arrived at: 11:00
Departed at: 12:15
Read on Commute: Chronic City by Jonathan Lethem (I'm almost finished, it keeps getting more and more interesting). I could use new reading recommendations.

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