LC 18 (Fall 2011)

I thought the museum was quaint. I liked the spiraling stairs, and the brief history lesson we learned about the museum. It used to be a tenement, and then a Barney’s. I liked the dimmed lighting and the quietness. However, there was not much to see at all. There were only several exhibits, and I only visited the 3rd floor. I enjoyed the shrine!

First off, I expected the museum to be way closer to Baruch than it actually is. The walk there was not very pleasant for me. The Rubin Museum was a lot smaller than I thought it would be but it was peaceful and relaxing since there weren’t that many people there. Also, the statues were small so it was easy to observe and look at. I learned one thing at the Rubin Museum: the bun on top of a Buddha’s head is not hair.

The Rubin museum was smaller than I expected. I guess I think everything is small after going to the Metropolitan museum and the Museum of Modern art. Compared to the Met there wasn’t a lot of varieties. But it was a nice seeing the different Buddha sculptures. I didn’t have much time to go around and look at other artworks. So I only went to the second floor. On this trip I learned a lot about Buddha, I never knew the bun on Buddha’s head was actually another head and not a hair bun. Overall it was a different environment then the museums I’ve been to, but it was a nice experience.

I forgot to post a blog after I went to the Sidney Gallery, so sorry for the late blog post… When i walked into the gallery, the first thing i notice was that there was no one there. Like there were only 3 women sitting and chatting. One of them was even doing math homework or something. I was expecting a lot of people to be there. The scond thing I notice was that it was really small. I could have looked at the whole gallery in in less then 5 minutes.

Even though the gallery was small it was still very interesting. I guess its quality or quanitity when it comes to galleries. I remember there was a bunch of Andy Warhowl pictures and they were pretty unique I would say. He took numerous shots of regular everyday people in different angles. He was trying to show us the beauty of the people, and that you dont’t have to be a celebrity to have beauty. It is very interesting what the photographers want us to get out of their works.

It was nice to see the different types of photographs taken by famous photographers, and what they were trying to say through the photographs. I don’t know if I would go to a photograph gallery again anytime soon because it was a bit boring.

Honestly, I never liked museums and have no interest in them whatsoever. But the Rubin Museum is different from the ones I’ve visited for school assignments. When I walked through the entrance, I was surprised to find the dim lighting of the place. The other museums are usually very spacious with bright lights. In addition to the dim lights, the aroma on the first floor made the museum have a comfy feel to it. The spiral stairway also made the museum look fancy. The quietness of the museum made it easy to think. In a way, it’s similar to what the artworks depicts–meditation. Last but not least, there were chairs! If I was at another museum and happened to be tired, there would be nothing I can do about it. I guess these differences have to do with the fact that the Rubin Museum is small compared to the other museums that I visited in the past. I can’t say I really liked the visit, but it was alright, better than the others.

We went to the Rubin Museum yesterday. The first thing I noticed was the smell of food in the background. Then I noticed the pillars and the great staircase. I enjoyed the Tibetan exhibit. It was very interesting. Someone pointed out the Sheba to me. I thought that was funny. I learned that the bump on the top of Buddha’s head in an extension of his head because of his vast knowledge. I liked it a lot until I noticed no one was waiting for me when I was done…sighh.

This wednesday I went to the Sidney gallery on 22nd street.My first impression of the gallery was that it was very small. I was a bit disappointed.I expected a large ornate gallery dripping with art, but I soon learned that the size of the gallery did not matter. I was pleasantly surprised to find myself enjoying the intimate space. The contents in the gallery were all photos. I specifically remember a large photograph of a napkin draped over a book. From a distance it looked like a flower petal. Another one that stuck in my mind was this photograph of the chest of an African boy. His chest had the letters R,U,M burnt on. No its not the liquor, but Refugee Union something or something along those lines. I don’t know why that image plugged on my heartstrings. My overall experience at the gallery? A good one. Would I go again? Probably not in the near future, but someday ;]

I saw a man the
other day – he was walking down Madison in a dark navy suit, carrying a cell
phone to his ear and a leather attaché case to his side. His attire was
immaculate, his swagger – unobstructed. I could make out the thin pinstripes in
his suit and the stitching in his brown leather shoes. I also couldn’t help but
notice the bright silver watch which just peeked out from underneath his shirt
cuff as he help the phone to his ear.

Although there
were many things in front of him which he could have obstructed his path – from
people, to puddles of water – his eyes were not focused in front of him. Nor
were they focused on the street, which was overrun by aggressive taxis eager to
pick up the next fare. Instead, his head was turned slightly towards the
building he was passing; his eyes fixed on the glass windows of the ground
floor coffee shop.

Like every
sidewalk down the streets of Manhattan, this one was lined with glass windows
which reflected the cars and people who passed by. The funny thing was, in his
distraction he failed to see a coffee cup which had been strewn to the side.
Apparently lost in his own image, he stepped on the cup, which was still
slightly filled, and covered his brown leather shoes in brown liquid coffee. His
immediate reaction was to step aside and stare at the cup as if it had come out
of nowhere – intentionally dispensing its contents upon his shoes. He then
threw up his hands in frustration, shook off his shoe and continued walking. It
wasn’t long before he caught his gaze in the reflection once again.

I had to stop
and give that whole sequence of events some serious thought. I had never
noticed how much I looked at my own reflection until I saw a man so infatuated
with his appearance that he made a fool of himself on the streets. There are
mirrors everywhere in this city. Walk down the sidewalk and you’ll see a
hundred thousand panes of glass floating above the streets reflecting
themselves and the world around them. What huge egos and crippled self-esteems
do these mirrors reflect every day? Is our image really that important to us
that we can’t function in a world without mirrors?

I glanced at
myself in the mirror. I saw myself in the middle of a cityscape surrounded by a
dozen other people. I saw my orange American Apparel T-shirt, and Kenneth Cole
faded jeans; my Nike Freerun 2’s and my Sketchers black leather belt. I saw the
book bag on my back and the gym bag on my shoulder, as well as the iPod in my
ear and the cell phone in my hand. All of these things have told the world
something about who I am and what I am like. I used to have an English teacher
in high school who said “You can tell everything you need to know about a
person by the shoes they are wearing.” While the point was used facetiously to
instigate debate, I couldn’t help but think about how true that statement is in
a variety of circumstances.

Dirty shoes can
mean you’re athletic or outdoorsy, whereas clean shoes mean you’re classy and
fashionable. Are these statements true? Not in all cases, surely, but a second
point then comes to mind- does it matter if they are? I hate that we live in
such a superficial world where image counts for 6 and personality is a measly
extra point. What should it matter whether I wear a dirty tank top or a
perfectly tailored blazer, if I can play Bach immaculately or establish
differential equations?

But I do love
images, and, if I had to be completely honest with myself, the single most
important image to me is myself. And maybe it’s not because I “care what others
think”, but, rather, I subconsciously justify my own success and self-worth by
the way I appear outwardly. Maybe it does matter that I wear the freshest
clothes and listen to the newest music, because otherwise my mind would not
accept me as belonging to society. I think we all have some kind of deep desire
to make ourselves look like what we think our social environment should look
like.

I guess the
mirror is the vessel which connects our image to our social world. We walk and
we talk, but more importantly, we look – at ourselves and the world around us.
There must be a reason for the world of mirrors which we walk through every
day. I think my biggest fear is being alone – not physically absent of company,
but void of any social connection which expresses my mind and my heart to my friends.
Being genuine is the single most respectable trait a person can display, and
toward that end the mirror shows the ultimate truth. The next time you’re
walking down the street and you see an especially reflective window pane- take
a look. Do you like what you see?

It’s a Tuesday, worst day of the week. I already did all my homework… what should I do now? I wish I didn’t live at home. I hate living with the two biggest psychopaths on the face of the earth: Joseph and my mom. I could play xbox but Joseph would yell at me because he a territorial dickhead and never lets me use it because he bought it. He is the most anal sixteen-year kid I have ever met. Thank god I am going away this weekend. Schenectady should be fun even though there is nothing in the city. I hate having to study for all these midterms. I have to study for philosophy tonight and then art history over this weekend, on top of that I have a math quiz. I hope I ace this philosophy test. I really miss my peeps from high school. We had a lot of fun this summer I cant wait until there all back. I love it when they come back for breaks. They are really funny, and I love seeing them, unfortunately they are all enjoying college more then me. At least I am the only one not going into a shitload of debt.

What makes me afraid? It’s not the dark, it’s not spiders, and it’s not ghosts. It’s not knowing what might be under or around me when I am in the ocean. All these movies like Jaws, Deep Blue Sea and Open Ocean shows everything that is out there to get me. I mean the ocean covers the majority of our planet. Me in this vast ocean is like a spec of dust in my room.

Don’t get me wrong I love swimming in the ocean and going to the beach, but I always have these dark thoughts in the back of my mind of the unforeseeable. Standing in the ocean and not knowing what I might step on even worries me. There could be a crab waiting to pinch me with its claws or a poisonous sea urchin on the ground waiting for me to step on it. Every time I step on seaweed I get a little hesitant because I think its something else.

I remember going snorkeling in Mexico and the water was so clear I was able to see so far. I thought it was the best. I swam to a reef and a couple feet down there were hundreds of fish it was amazing. Then I saw this giant dark shadow that I couldn’t quite make out what it was. Immediately, I started swimming away because I didn’t want to stay there and find out what it was even though it probably wouldn’t swim up to me.

I try to hide this fear because I feel that it is pretty dumb to be scared of fish, but it’s something that I probably won’t get over. I will however continue going to the ocean and hopefully one day I will learn how to surf. I am sure the whole time I am out there learning to surf I will be thinking about how I look like an injured seal, the perfect meal for a shark. Guess I am just going to have to face my fear!