Artsy Summer: Hammer Museum

On a whim I decided to take public transportation to the Westside, so my visit to the Hammer Museum began well before I got there. The journey took about 90 minutes -- fine if one has that kind of time, which I did that day, but not fine for any regular type of commute. Since I would've taken the freeway had I driven, I enjoyed seeing the city as we traversed one of its arterial thoroghfares (Venice Blvd). Here's the point of view from the inside looking...in:

I'd only been to the Hammer once before, for a work-related symposium which confined me largely to the auditorium. Heading there this time, I was impressed once again at the building itself: stripes are in this season. In grey and white, no less. With tons of windows.

Sing Your Favorite Book was a less formal event than expected: one guy, sing/reading from a book, in the gallery containing the Ed Ruscha exhibit. The website informs us that

The Hammer Museum’s Public Engagement program seeks to create a new kind of interactive museum: an artist-driven visitor engagement program that encourages contact among visitors, artists, and Museum staff, and activates spaces in imaginative ways.

which is great. However, there isn't sufficient information about the concept of Sing Your Favorite Book for anyone to gain any insight or connection to the exhibit. How is the visitor's engagement with or appreciation of the artists (in this case, Ruscha and Kerouac) heightened by the singing? How does the visitor engage with the singer other than to watch them sing (which detracts from the art, right)? Or is the singer engaging with the art? Or with the viewer? I didn't really get it. So I moved on to the other galleries.

Having done with that (particularly struck by a Van Gogh and a Cezanne that were unusual in style compared to both artists' oeuvres), the emergence to the outdoor corridors was met with the sound of stringed instruments, which, when followed around a corner or two, led to the Disassembled Strings Ensemble. In this Public Engagement project,

a string quartet will attempt to perform together while interspersed around the museum terraces.

"Interspersed around the museum terraces" turned out to be at the four corners of the outdoor lounge area, which is different (in a less disassembled way) than I'd imagined it would be. But I didn't mind finding a seat in the cross-section of those sounds. I might have even slipped into a micronap, I was so relaxed.

After the museum visit, the beautiful day was by no means wasted. Lunch was eaten al fresco and followed by a walk through UCLA's MEM Botanical Garden, where the lotus were never found, but some other specimens were in abundance:

 
I ended up carpooling back home with Jax, after which we went to the farmers market, after which I went to dinner with friends.  It was a long yet lovely day. *exhale*

Tumbling home

Getting to the Metro station after work involves going down a steep incline.  And today, I took a bit of a tumble when the sole of my flats slipped on the concrete sidewalk.  I didn't notice the scratch on my hand till this evening.

[wrist owie]

Having bumped my knee when I fell, I knew there'd be a mark; sure enough, I found it:

[knee owie]

Well, I am grateful that there were no further injuries, no sprains, and no blood drawn.  I'm also thankful for the nice person who asked if I was okay and proceeded to joke a bit about it to make me feel less embarrassed.  So much for wearing flats.  From tomorrow, it's going to be my trusty Jack Purcells -- at least until I can find a more professional-looking alternative.  I just don't want to join the slacks-and-running-shoes club.  But, ah, the perils of public transport may have their way with my fashion points after all...

New ride

Although I am now only two miles away from my old apartment, I am on a new and very different get-to-work schedule that involves taking Metro railways instead of the bus. It makes me feel like I am living in Portland.  Or San Francisco. Or Tokyo. (Well, not really, but let a gal dream a little!). The ride is much smoother and faster than the bus, but now involves walking to the station and changing trains -- which means a lot of exit options and a lot of stairs. It took me about a week of emerging out of Metro stops three blocks away from my office or at the extreme other end of the platform before I finally got a handle on how to properly navigate those underground walkways.

[union station]

[two yellow lines; waiting for gold]

I even purchased a TAP card, which means no more fiddling with tokens and no more wasted paper printed for tickets. I think the Metro ticketing infrastructure is still being built, which is why there are ticket "sweeps" by officers every now and then. It's annoying for some people, but I don't mind.

[emerging from underground]

Other major changes need to be made, however, in terms of shoes and bags.  When I used to have to just walk downstairs or a couple city blocks to the bus stop, heels were bearable.  So was a load of library books.  But such is the case no more.  I have been rummaging for appropriate footwear and baggage.  So far, my work flats are okay, albeit barely.  I'm also testing out some of the free bags DC has gotten from conferences.  But I'm still looking (online, in stores) for cute, lightweight, efficient accoutrements.  And maybe an upgrade to a smart phone.

That's a lot of newness for someone who's not generally comfortable with change!  But I have been re-learning about embracing the new life, not being concerned or comparing it with the past.  And I'll do what DC always tells me: keep on keepin' on!

If anyone out there has suggestions as to good walking shoes (that may be appropriate with work clothes or not, I'll keep some heels at the office), bags, or a phone/PDA, I'm all ears!

Scroungin'

It's almost time to head home for the long weekend, and I'm scrambling to wrap up well: clean up my desk, wash any dishes or mugs, feed my guppy, remember my camera's memory card, etc. etc.  I haven't gotten around to buying bus tokens this week, so have been making sure I've got exact change for the bus.  This afternoon it's involved a shaking out of my coin purse, a looking around the other compartments of my purse, and, in the end, a rumble through my desk drawer.  Et voila!



 Just enough to get me home.  Phew!

This, to me, bodes well for the weekend.  Our plans to go camping have been cancelled (the sites we were considering booked--we shoulda known better; the remaining site a two-mile inland, uphill, bring-your-own-water hike--not for my first time, thankyouverymuch), but I'm looking forward to relaxing with old friends, getting fully unpacked (where do the books go?), doing a bit of crafting, and sharing about it by weekend's end.

Happy Memorial Day weekend!

Bus karma

This morning's bus commute into town was extremely unique:  I was the sole passenger for the last 10 or 15 minutes of the ride.  Having taken the bus for nearly a year and a half, I can say that that was indeed a first.  A quiet getting to work is a treat that I much enjoyed.

The ride home was *a bit* of a different story.  First of all, I stayed at work about 30 minutes longer than usual.  When I boarded the bus, though, it was my usual 5:07 driver (yes, he had been delayed 40 minutes!).  And the streets were all lit with red brake lights.  Turns out there were no less than six labor and immigration rallies overlapping each other from 10:30 a.m. to 9:00 p.m.  Yowza!  Busses were rerouted and passenger numbers much exceeded the norm.  At one point, my driver had to stop picking anyone up.  It was a bumpy, crowded and long ride back.

Like I've said, riding the bus brings on a different type of stress from that of commuting by car.  Overall, I'm a firm believer in public transportation, but on days like today -- when I arrive home exhausted not by my work day but the getting home -- a little part of me yearns for the comfort of my own little capsule.  Which is why I'm grateful to come home to my own place! 

Time for a glass of wine.