Saturday's mission had been planned for several weeks. We went to SFMOMA (SF Museum of Modern Art) and the Cartoon Museum. Two exhibits waited to be enjoyed. The drive over could not have been easier -
no accidents to slow things up
It was clear sailing all the way.
A Joseph Cornell exhibit was at the MOMA through early January. Cornell is an assemblage artist, producing boxes and building secret and mysterious worlds within these boxes. I picked up a JC book before going to the exhibit to familiarize myself with more of his work and along the way immersed myself in his life. I'm glad I did because I saw so many of his assemblages there that I had first met in the book.
Seeing them personally was such a rich experience. The pages of a book gives the viewer only a taste of what he did. To see them in a exhibit was a completely enriching experience. I kept on wanting to reach in and touch everything, even moving in close at one point to view the box more closely only to be stopped by the glass case. Ouch!
The Cartoon Museum had an Edward Gorey exhibit of his costume and set designs for the 1970's Broadway production of "Dracula." You know, the one with Frank Langella (be still my heart). It was terrific being able to see his designs in their various stages. It was also good being able to see this show separate from Gorey's more recognizable work many of you may be familiar with. It was like getting a peek into a very specific part of Gorey's world.
Elaine and I walked down Mission over a four block area. I had never seen so many museums packed into a few short blocks. All were specialized and rate further exploration, especially the African Diaspora Museum on Mission.
We passed Buena Vista Gardens with its beautiful fountains and setting for outdoor music and opera.
St Patrick's Catholic Church was across the street from the gardens. We visited it as our last stop before returning home. While there, enjoying the quiet and utter peace of the place, I was approached by one of the city's ubiquitous street people.
"Sorry - no purse with me."
"Is it at the Marriott's next door?"
"Sorry - no purse", I replied, stunned by this brazen question.
Moments later he and another homeless person started yelling at each other across the church, slashing a ragged tear into the peaceful fabric of the place.
The sad thing is that as I recall their yelling words, they didn't make any sense. It was like they weren't even seeing each other but rather they were seeing someone else and hearing other words in reply. Only a physical body was taking up space, each body the image of someone who wasn't really there.
Between museum visits, we hit Mel's Diner, enjoying good burgers and sublime onion rings, and way overpriced coke, no refills. Next time I'll ask. The place was packed from 11 a.m. when we first walked by to 3 p.m. at least, makig our final pass as we returned to the garage to pick up our car and head back home.