I Moved for Days Like This

Yesterday I went out for the day.  I started off with brunch at Thunder Burger and bar in Georgetown.  Since I took the bus there, though, I arrived a bit early.  So I took the opportunity to wander around Old Stone House, which is just across the street from Barnes and Noble.  And, oh yeah, it's the only pre-Revolutionary house in the whole city.  Built in 1766.

Normal thing to be across from a major chain

It was the perfect start to the day.  There was a crispness in the air that reminded you that it was fall.  The sun was out and the sky was blue.  Walking down Georgetown early-ish on a Sunday, with its old buildings and its semi-empty sidewalks, I was happy to be in D.C.  And so I wandered through the garden, which seems like it is miles away from a city.  Maybe it's because most of the plebeians hadn't yet stumbled out of bed and into their hangovers, but there wasn't any sound save my feet patting the ground.  See this loveliness for yourself:

I love a good weeping willow.  Sold.

A bench.  Let me live here. (In the garden, not the house.) 

So charming!

A power line runs through it.

There were some roses still in bloom, but I can't even begin to imagine how lush this place must be in spring.  The very thought of it makes me giddy!  I'll be sure to go back and check on it for you.  And in case, for some reason, you care about the house itself, which was started in 1764 by a carpenter and then finished in 1766 by his widow, here are some photos.  (Keep in mind that rear and second story additions were made later.)

I still can't believe how this is nestled onto one of the major shopping roads in the capital.

So then I went back across the road to Thunder Burger & Bar to meet Kim and Amir.  Kim and Amir both went to Wash U and were both Ervins (my scholarship program).  Amir also was my RA second semester of freshman year, and Kim and I took a course together.  (They've also been together for 5? 6? years.)  We are also just plain old friends.  So it was really good to see them.  They were 15 minutes late but I couldn't decide what I wanted anyway, so I didn't mind studying the menu intensely.
       I was in Georgetown last week and almost stopped there for meal, but I thought that the inside was going to be all just a bar but with friend things to eat so I moved on to go to Bistro Français (because you can take the girl out of France..).  I was totally misled!  I'm glad that Amir's godbrother suggested that they go there for brunch because it was decent.  It might be my fault that I'm calling it decent since I didn't get a burger burger but I got a falafel burger (because I'm Moroccan).  But it wasn't crispy.  So what are you gonna do?  Kim and Amir seemed pleased with their meal choices, so that was good.  Both got things with beef burgers.  Lesson learned!  They also have an extensive champagne cocktail selection and Bloody Mary menu, so maybe I'll be back to make better food choices.
     After we finished three hours later, I shoved off to get to the National Gallery of Art for an Andy Warhol and journalism exhibit.  As soon as I got off the bus, I was prompted to take the first really touristy photo.  For you, dear readers!

Just call me a mallrat!

So I was a bit confused because there are actually two Warhol exhibits on across the street from each other.  There's the one at the National Gallery of Art and the one at the Hirshhorn/Sculpture Garden.  So I checked my phone (forgot the map I bought) to see which direction to go.  Naturally, I started walking through the Sculpture Garden.  Wrong!  So, remember how I said it was such a lovely day?  It was.  Would I have gone out in a tank top and flip flops?  Never.  Sometimes I think there needs to be an acceptable/weather appropriate dress code for people.  But since there's not, I sometimes see one person in a summer dress and another in jeans, Uggs, and a North Face all in the same walk.  Luckily, it was in the mid-60s yesterday, so I guess the variation was ookay.  

       Anyway!  Before I made an about face in the garden to get to my intended destination, I snapped some photos of the sculptures.  

Small house of Uncle Thomas. 

It's shiny and silver.  Like after an ice storm.

Look at these people trying to be in Paris.  Poseurs.

So then I crossed the road to the National Gallery of Art.  When the security guard asked me what was in my bag, I said, "Normal things."  He said I looked normal and asked where I was from.  I told him Los Angeles, where all the normal people are from.  Clearly.  So I wandered through the building looking for signs to Warhol.  Oh, naturally it's in the East Building.  So back out I went.  

       Finally!  I reached the right place!  Up I went to the exhibit.  It was really good.  But far too small.  Since it was an exhibit of journalism, it only looked at how Warhol reappropriated headlines for his pieces.  Which meant it was way too small for my taste!  But it really makes you think about how much work goes into putting together a tabloid and how people who work for them likely consider it a work of art, and not some rag.  It also points out the sensationalism of it all and the importance of a personal connection.  AKA it focused you on the "Stars Just Like Us!" part of everything.  No photos allowed so you'll have to forgive me.   

      Then I walked through some tapestries because my sister loves them, but I just don't really get them.  They were all about the Portuguese taking over Morocco.  It was funny to see since the Flemish weavers who made them had never been to Africa, so they didn't know how different the architecture is.  So the Moroccan cities had roofs that looked more red and Spanish than anything else.  Also, they put monkeys in the tapestries to signify that the scenes took place in Africa.  Really?

     Went through the rest of the upper floor and stopped at some that stood out to me.  And now you don't have to go to a museum today!

Gauguin's Flasher? 

Part of the Alphabet exhibit

In for the close up!

Persian Nightingales by Paul Klee (Swiss!)

This is a painting that is similar to the cover of my Microfiction book. That's the only reason I took a photo. 

Lichtenstein made this.  WITH SAND.

As I was finishing the top floor, I ran into my friend Matt.  It wasn't coincidence since we had talked about meeting up, but the timing was perfect.  We sat and chatted for a bit before going down to the gift store, which I always enjoy seeing.  I was tempted to get a spray can martini shaker (brilliant, right?), but since I don't have a home and I don't often have martinis, I restrained myself.

       We went through the lower floor, which had a room of amazing mobiles by Alexander Calder.  They kind of reminded me of the art in Shel Silverstein's books.  To be totally honest, I actually preferred to watch the shadows that the mobiles created to looking at the actual works of art themselves.  But maybe that's the point of it all..

      There were some pieces I enjoyed, but a lot of the times, I just feel lost when I'm looking at modern art.  I don't get really get Rothko, but I want to.  There was a Stations of the Cross with 14 canvases that looked nearly identical. I need someone to explain these things to me.  But I definitely understood the paining of cakes and the pie sculpture.  Miam miam!  (French for yum yum.)  As we were about to go to the West building, I took a closer look at this piece by Chuck Close:

It's at least 10 feet tall.  It seems pretty normal, right?  Well, think about the fact that it's entitled Fanny/Fingerpainting.  BAM.  Is your mind blown?  Mine was.  You can actually see the fingerprints.  There will be no forging this one.

The one I saw at MdO

       We got on the moving walkway, which is apparently one of Matt's favorite parts of the museum.  It might be called "Multiverse."  It's actually really cool and unlike any other connecting tunnel I've been through.  We went almost immediately into a collection of French Impressionist paintings.  As when I was at the Musée d'Orsay and came upon one of Degas's paintings, I teared up.  Anyway, Impressionist art is definitely one that I can get behind, so I enjoyed that part of the collection.  Went through to see some sculptures, some fountains (one with a woman wringing out her hair so that there was a drip.  And I actually had a dream about it but it was dispensing anesthesia instead of water?), and artifacts from them olden dayz.  There was a plate with a rape scene on it, which is something I cannot imagine thinking would ever be necessary.  They also had Marie Antoinette's writing table!  And a portrait of Madame DuBarry!  Good thing that everything I ever learned about Marie Antoinette came from the Sofia Coppola movie!  Shortly thereafter, the museum closed.  Back home for some grubz.

Moments from the week:

1. Sitting on a bus and having a sound like the most annoying sound in the world pulsing for about 10 minutes. The bus driver started to hit the machine, and then apologized to it.  Eventually it stopped.

2. Sitting on a bus and a woman got on and greeted the bus driver saying that last time she had a Snickers and some tea for him but he wasn't there so she ate the Snickers and gave away the tea.  When she walked down the aisle, I noticed she was missing about 4 of her front teeth.  So how did she do it?

3. Same bus.  Another woman got on and said, "Hello, how are you?" to the bus driver.  No response.  She repeated, "Hello, how are you?"  No response.  So she said to herself, "Alright, fine," and sat down.

4. At dinner with Nana, Uncle Tony, Aunt Diane, Asantewa, Mustafa/Demetrius, and Naiah (sp?) for Asantewa's birthday, Uncle Tony told a story about when he was in Ghana hanging out with the king.  He kept saying, "Your Majesty this" and "Your Majesty that."  The king then said, "You don't have to be so formal with me.  You can just call me Majesty."

Informally,

Jess "Majesty" Williams