I recently visited the Canada art gallery in Chinatown to see a Bernadette Meyer exhibit. Bernadette Mayer is an author, and an artist. I expected the exhibit to be boring and really small. Mayer wrote a couple books in the 1970s recounting her experiences and encounters, which was completely unfiltered. She wrote a book called A Midwinter’s Day in 1978. On December 22, Mayer wrote down her thoughts all day, from waking up to falling asleep. The way we think, is not formed in sentences, but thoughts and bursts of ideas. Therefore, Mayer’s book is comprised of run-on sentences for pages and pages. My English professor assigned for us to go to the gallery to view a collection of photos. These photos were taken everyday for a couple years. She depicted her life throughout the years. Also, at the exhibit there was a recording of one of her books, I did not recognize. However, I found the exhibit extremely boring. This was the only attraction at the Canada gallery. There were so many pictures, that for the most part were unrelated and put together weirdly. I guess there was no revision in the parts of her life. There was no one there besides me and an occasional wanderer that ended up in the gallery looking to use the bathroom.