I was invited to an art opening in large historical museum. The setting was momentous as only a museum of this stature and importance can be. A gathering of visitors – friends and family of the artists, science folks, academics and other art interested people gathered in a room listening to four or five unfortunately rather boring speakers who had some function in bringing the exhibition to fruition. Here are some thoughts I gathered on the back of a Graduation invitation:
I’m in the room which holds more details than my eyes can register.
There is a speaker at the podium. I hear his voice but his words make no sense to me.
I stand properly, however, and demonstrate listening behaviors. My attendant decorum is impeccable, entirely appropriate to the occasion and setting.
All the listeners are polite yet with each added speaker more of the audience seems impatient. It is hot. And humid.
When we are finally released to enter the exhibit there is a general woosh of relief and voices match the sound of feet moving.
There is a table offering wine, juice or water. A friend brings some wine. The joy of the exhibit ends up having little to do with the artwork. Rather it is the meeting of former students now grown and communicative. One works with exchange students, another produces an exclusive gourmet Walnut cream, while another has left print media and shifted to corporate PR. We have all come to support and celebrate our friend who is one of the artists whose work is featured. It’s a happy, fulfilling reunion.
I leave and catch the underground to where I parked my bike. On my ride home, the air feels fresh on my bare arms.