Serendipity--My excursion To The Williamsbus Art & Historical Center Part II

Part II

Part II

I came down stairs with no other intention of but to exit the building and go find a place to eat. Ticking off a box in my head marked, experience at a gallery and then keep it movin’. Silly me. Then what happen was this short Asian lady, middle age, slightly older than me, (shut up I’m being complimentary), well anyway she asked me if I’d like to have some food that was laid out for guest for a book signing. The two gentleman that I had saw earlier had contributed to a book. Emanations Third Eye Edited By Carter Kaplan. One of the gentlemen helped organize the illustrations for the book. Mr. Terrence Lindell. (Or so I remembered him telling me something about that. I could be wrong as I am writing from memory.) Mr. Lindell I found out later is the co-director and chief Administrator of the Williamsburg Art and Historical Center in Brooklyn.

Well I was hungry wasn’t I? Yes, I was but I certainly didn’t expect to be asked to snack with real live artists now was I. Of course me being a person who could not turn down food; even if my life depended on it, did not say no. Of course not; So I did. The next thing I know my picture was being taken with the editorial illustrator of the cover of the book Emanations Third Eye and one of the contributing writers. The picture was taken by the Curator of the Musuem Yuko Nii. (The short Asian lady whom I mentioned previously in Part I.) At the time I was quite nervous as I am around strangers but with cake in hand and smiling like a bemused idiot the photo was taken.

Then I sat down and began the introductions. Ms. Nii asked me to tell me about myself and I told her that I was a blog writer, poet, and was currently working on a book. A short story about a young man who is trying to survive in a changing world. A new world order. I went on about that for a bit carried away on a shield of artistic fevor. Then it began; That moment when conversation about one thing led to another. The writer began talking about his experiences in a South American Country where a certain image of a demon was on display. He displayed it and it had cause a stir because this gang in the area used a demon as there gang display. You know it was there symbol or something. This is where memory slackens a bit as I try to remember every thing that was being said. The convo segued into politics a bit and as Mr. Lindell did not like going into that sort of discussion we moved into a discussion of spiritual beliefs and I was relieved to find that my sharing of my theories did not shock nor annoy them.

If anything my theories seemed to match up with what that artist and writer was saying about God and spirituality. We synced up and matched just with about everything on that topic. I’ll try not to bore the reader or at least stem the tide of proselytizing so that I can go on with this essay. At any rate we talked and talked till I noticed that the sun was going down. I was having such an unbeliveable time talking with those three amazing people that I barely noticed the time.

Sadly all good things must end and it was a long way home. I gave Ms. Nii my email and blog address and bid them goodbye. I must say that I would have stayed longer but I had the feeling that the museum should be closing and that as much as an enjoyable time as we were having I didn’t want to hold Ms. Nii up.

As I was walking to the bus stop I had a epiphany of sorts. What if I hadn’t decided on a day of culture what if I had instead decided to go to the movies or something? (Not that going to the movies is not culture in of it’s self. However what I had in mind that day was a day of high end culture.) Instead I searched my internet and found something I had not planned on doing.

Having a meaningful day filled with Serendipity.

Well that was my experience for what it’s worth. I hope that someday soon my readers will have an experience with Serendipity soon.

Thank you for reading

Note: I may have forgotten more than I remember however it must be said that I think the reason for that is that I took so long in writing this and lost my notes. Bievenido Bones Banez Jr. may have been the ‘writer’ I was talking to but now that I think on it and did some research of a sort I think he is an artist and if you wish to research him yourself go ahead. I mean I’m not Google you know. ;)

Serendipity--My excursion To The Williamsbus Art & Historical Center Part I

Here lies one of those experiences that happen once in a life time. Or does it? Well you tell me dear readers. A weekend ago I went out looking for some culture. Instead I found serendipity...

Serendipity

noun

noun: serendipity plural noun:; serendipities

1.  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"

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. ;)

Spritual thoughts for St. Patrick's Day and beyond.

Thank you for giving me the Spirit.
By M.A.R (A.K.A Clueuin)

You might think that I'm ungrateful for the things you've given me.
You might think that I take for granted all the blessings you've bestow.
But Lord, Creator, forgive me Ma'am ?Sir but you're wrong and the only way I can tell you so is in this poem song.

I wake up in the morning glad to have another day. Another day, another chance to change my life, to start anew.

Because of the Spirit you have implanted in me at birth I can go on. I can go on despite the troubles that come down on me and the problems that I face. You give me strength to try and achieve my goals. That is the most important thing that you have given to me.

Thank you for giving me the Spirit.
Everyday I'm near it. I feel your grace and your spirit keeps me safe and whole.

I want you to understand that though you don't always verbally hear it. I thank you for the spirit.
For grace and power every day and how, how I do thank you now.