Serendipity
noun
noun: serendipity plural noun:; serendipities
- The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.
"a fortunate stroke of serendipity"
Synonyms:
|
(happy) chance, (happy) accident, fluke;
luck, good luck, good fortune, fortuity, providence;
happy coincidence
"the consequence of serendipity is sometimes a
brilliant discovery"
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How do people meet? They find
each other everyday. Once you step outside the door the possibilities are
endless. Going out for coffee, going to class, going to work, walking the dog,
or going to a museum to see an exhibit.
That’s how I met some
extraordinary people on an ordinary Sunday afternoon. (Heck I almost got lost.
That’s how ordinary and banal my day was going.) I was looking for some
experience with culture and fell into a gold mine. After looking at some
fantastic pictures, videos, sketch drawings, and statues I was offered an opportunity
that turned my day from ordinary to down right wonderful.
An elderly gentleman that I had
saw as I was walking into the Williamsburg
Art & Historical Center was playing chess with an middle
aged man. (I’m horrible at racial descriptions most likely because I hate
describing people by their race. Plus I suck at it outside of the regular
black, white, asian, categories. So forgive me guys, o.k.?) Anyway, they were
playing chess and I was confused. Where the fuck am I? I asked myself. Is this
the museum I was looking for? This place was filled with mad old stuff but was
not like what I was used to seeing in a museum. Gone was the artifacts and art
under glass boxes or behind frames. Just mad stuff left and right. Looking
closer I noticed that the stuff was furniture and décor from different times.
Things for the 30’s, 40’s, 50’s, etc strewn all over almost haphazardly. Maybe
from older times I don’t know! My knowledge base on antiques was at novice
level. The only place I felt like I was on any common ground with was the
living room setting in the room next door.
18 century, possibly Victorian furnishings,
a table, a sofa, a fireplace, etc. All on a hardwood floor. All of a sudden I
felt a little at home. It was decorated in the style of my dreams, just a
little more comfortable pillows and cushions missing to make it more home like.
All very old and stylish but so not an exhibit on various type of animals that
let you in to a bit of their lives at all. The guys looked as if they were
really into their game so I didn’t want to be the dopey idiot that ruined their
chess vibe. Besides I a mature gal of some years me self; it I couldn’t find
the exhibit room myself without bugging some strangers well I might as well had
brought some helpful friend along with me. (It would have helped but who was I
goin’ to call? My friend might want to experience a trip to the museum but they
weren’t the museum going types. Sorry my peeps! Probably wrong knowing me.)
Anywho, I tried causally walking
toward another entrance which lead me to a fire exit door and some stairs.
Could I have walked into the wrong building? I walked out back toward the living
room setting and pass the stewed artifacts room out the door. Nothing to see
here! Just a big ole doofy women dressed up for a museum outing. Doti, doti,
doo! La, la! Walking pass as casual as possible then I beat my feet toward the
sign in front. Yep, that’s the sign alright; it said that this was the place.
Well I was confused I tell ya. Then I saw mentioned on the sign that the
entrance was at the back. I walk down the stairs and around the corner. A black
door with a bell to push but with the door looking partly open. I let myself in
and see that I have walked into the hallway of the fire exit I had saw
previously. Doh! What? Did I walk into some kind of mobius strip here? Nope,
dummy there are stairs that go up. Perhaps they go up to the exhibit hall? Duh?
Well as you dear reader probably
read in my article on my visit to the exhibit I did find the room I was looking
for. Letting myself go into full art appreciation mode, I took a look and
admired all the art pieces in the two rooms. Well organized, not strewed, and
for the exception of glass cases; full museum/gallery classic, complete with
labels so I could know what the heck I was looking at. Sweet! Gazing my fill
and watching the two videos. One of them caught my fancy. Gift/Gift, a video
art piece by Nina Katchadourian. Hey did you know that Gift in Swedish means
poison? Now we both know. Either I was caught by bemused or charmed by the
various art pieces that gave one the feeling as if the animals were looking
right at you or going about their business without a thought to who might be
observing them. Only one had the look of animals being posed and that was the
one with the mice who had been medically or scientifically experimented on.
Those photos did not bemuse nor charm me. I felt sorry for the little fellas,
which is what I think the photographer/artist Catherine Chalmers. (Imagine the
very idea of infecting someone on purpose with the virus that causes Down
Syndrome then see a picture of a mouse infected with same. The poor darlin’!
But I guess that will be for another essays dear reader.)
Looking back I think I went to
that exhibit for the most naive of reasons. You see I haven’t been out to
anything at all. Nope! Not a movie, a bookstore, a concert, or art exhibit in well
two years or so. I had been so starved for some kind of contact with the
outside world beyond my neighborhood. (Yeah, me with all my talk for going
outside you comfort zone and all. But no fear I wasn’t in any comfort.) I had
finally got a job, one which I was ill suited for although I had done it
previously eight years ago. No choice, long story, let’s just say that when
dealing with the welfare system choice are kind of thin on the ground and let’s
just keep it moving. O.k.? Asides, aside, I really wanted to go out and do
something cultural. Desperately. But you just can’t go out to some cultural
event and start feeling cultural. Ya dig?
No, you have to have come in
contact with people within that environment and get in touch with your inner
intelligencia. How do I describe this? It’s like you can’t go to a Missy Elliot
concert by yourself and expect to walk away untouched by other viewers of the
concert; Trade views, talk about your favorite song, comment on Ms. Elliot’s
wardrobe, etc. Without all that you’re just an isolated person experiencing the
experience solo. Sigh. Well I tried my best and ended up thanking the museum
employee for the experience. Done and done, right? Nope. Next what happen was a
experience you just had to be there to experience. Ironically enough. So I’ll
try my best but I’m not that good a writer you know so please be patient. ;)
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