A DATE WITH YOURSELF

     It's taken you the better part of five decades to appreciate fully your own company.  You've been lunching by yourself for years, even dining, going to the movies.  But there was always a bit of a regret, a feeling of being left out of the party.  Now, finally, you have realized the joy of solitude.  The freedom of doing whatever you want, whenever you want it.  

     This Monday you go to the Art Institute of Chicago to see the Picasso exhibit.  But first you must eat lunch.  The cafeteria is not crowded; the museum is not crowded.  The joys of Mondays.  You order couscous salad, coffee, and a parfait before sitting down in the back to read your book and do the NYT crossword puzzle.  After a while you go up to see Picasso's drawings, paintings, ceramics, whatnot.  Too many art works to absorb.  The famous ones you've seen before.  You walk through the galleries and stop in front of the portrait of Leonid Massine.  Why?  Because you know his daughter and son-in-law.  Amazing, ain't it?  Talk about small world.  Massine was a famous dancer and choreographer of the Ballet Russes, worked with Diaghilev, and Picasso was his friend.  His son-in-law is a colleague and friend of David's.  A poster dealer who lives in New York.  After a while the sensory overload forces you to seek refuge in the Member's Lounge.  You sit in a plush orange sofa and read, check email (there is Wi-Fi!), rest - your feet under you (without shoes of course).  The lounge is also mercifully not crowded.  After another while you go out the Modern Wing way and see the "They Seek a City" exhibit.  

     You love this exhibit.  Such amazing works about the migrations to Chicago from the early 20th century.  A painting by Emil Armin calls your attention.  That's your friend's Mike Armin's uncle.  Another small world moment.  Works by Motley, Cattlet, Ellison, Rivera, so many more.  You must tell everyone about it.  You must also come back to look again, slowly, and absorb it.  At the gift shop you purchase a long-needed umbrella; then make your way to the Macy's Flower Show.

     

     Pictures speak better (and louder and more colorfully) than words.  You love the smell of the hydrangeas, bougainvilleas, bromeliads, jasmines, aloe, neon pothos, cardamom, oleander, and so many many more flowers and plants.  The Indian music adds a sense of calm; the entire place tells you "come, sit, relax, close your eyes and let go."  You promise to go back again before it's taken away.  After, you sit in the small, yellow cafe next door and read some more, enjoy the solitude.  

     What a day you've had!  The best date in a long time.  And it was just with yourself.  The best company ever.

VACATION DAYS: Chicago

I finally feel like vacation has started for me.  No packing and unpacking, no airports, no teaching, no emergency rooms. I can do what I want when I want wherever I want.

Thursday I took myself to Andersonville for a long browse at Women and Children First on Clark Street.  The bookstore has been part of my life since the early 1980s when they were on Halsted and Armitage.  (Ironically I live in this neighborhood now but then I had to take the "L").  Back then we held meetings of the Feminist Writers Guild there and had many readings, many many readings.  Since then I've read my work at the bookstore many times and have been a member for a while now.  After browsing and purchasing a book and a calendar I met my friend Betty for lunch at Andy's.  Later I browsed in other shops before returning home.

On Friday I met my friend Sandy for a lecture at the Art Institute on the French Revolution and art.  Although my back hurt after standing up for almost an hour, I loved the lecture about four pieces of art the lecturer chose to focus on in his talk:  a David portrait of Louise Pasterai, a painting by Fuseli, a marble head of Comtese de Pange, and another painting by DeSoria of Constance Pipelet.  Fascinating details such as, the red ribbon the women wore around their necks during those years meant that they had lost someone to the guillotine.  Next time you look at a painting of the late 1700s-early 1800s and see that, you'll know why. Then we lunched in the garden of the Art Institute before the rainstorm came.  I sought refuge in the members lounge until the rain subsided.  The lounge was full but I managed to find a chair and, after reading for a while, I took a quasi-nap: closed my eyes and counted backwards from 100.  It is very relaxing.  In the evening David and I went to see the play Immediate Family at the Goodman Theatre.  It was not as funny as I had hoped but entertaining.  Some of the characters were too broad and almost cartoonish.

What a treat!  Next week I plan to go to the lakefront, perhaps the beach, get my feet wet.  Read.  I live so close to the water but almost never go and yet it is right here.  I need to see water.  Oceans, seas, lakes.  I must spend some time looking out over the expanse, daydreaming.  I would also like to go to Navy Pier and take one of those cruises they offer.  And how about the public pools? And Millenium Park.  So much to see and do in the Summer!  I don't want to waste it indoors.  Anyone wanna come with?