DC in the Spring!
We went to DC last week. I really needed the trip to get away for a bit even if it was only for 24 hours where I could feed the fat kitten on each day and make sure he was fine.
It was really chilly, much more than I thought. But we went around as much as possible in spite of the wind. While the chef was working, I went to one of my very favorite museums: the National Museum of the American Indian. There, I feel at home. I love that there are no sharp curves in the structure. Each wall is round and smooth. From the outside it resembles the sand dunes of Arizona and the plateaus of Utah. From the inside you feel a richness of culture that the US has lost, but where our origins came from. I can't imagine what Italy would be like if all of its culture had been annihilated by the Turks. That is exactly what happened to native American cultures. I wish we knew more about them, what things meant, what they knew about the weather, their outlooks on life.
One of my favorite exhibitions was one called "Our Universe" where each exhibition was in a cave-like entrance with a dark sky covered in stars.
I wondered about my own native origins and what they were like. How did their language influence their thought? What were their priorities in life? I bet they were much different than mine.
I looked at the pictures of many of the Native Americans and saw my face in them, my grandmothers face too.
I found these questions interesting:
It reminded me of the book "Puddin Head Wilson" where there are two babies. One is 1/16th black and is considered a slave. The master's baby is identical. The slave mama switches the two babies so that her blond blue eyed yet 1/16 black slave child can have a better life growing up in the masters house while his real son grows up as a slave. How Indian am I?
I ate a big piece of cornbread and had some Mexican hot chocolate while enjoying a conversation with an anthropology student I met there. It was one of the best days I have had in a long time.
Then the chef picked me up and we went out to lunch in Georgetown.
Then drove home through the country fields of Pennsylvania. I loved seeing all the farms.
And finally got home to the pot-hole filled roads of New Jersey where you feel like you are driving over a mine field.
We were greeted by a feline who was feeling much better.
It was really chilly, much more than I thought. But we went around as much as possible in spite of the wind. While the chef was working, I went to one of my very favorite museums: the National Museum of the American Indian. There, I feel at home. I love that there are no sharp curves in the structure. Each wall is round and smooth. From the outside it resembles the sand dunes of Arizona and the plateaus of Utah. From the inside you feel a richness of culture that the US has lost, but where our origins came from. I can't imagine what Italy would be like if all of its culture had been annihilated by the Turks. That is exactly what happened to native American cultures. I wish we knew more about them, what things meant, what they knew about the weather, their outlooks on life.
One of my favorite exhibitions was one called "Our Universe" where each exhibition was in a cave-like entrance with a dark sky covered in stars.
I wondered about my own native origins and what they were like. How did their language influence their thought? What were their priorities in life? I bet they were much different than mine.
I looked at the pictures of many of the Native Americans and saw my face in them, my grandmothers face too.
I found these questions interesting:
It reminded me of the book "Puddin Head Wilson" where there are two babies. One is 1/16th black and is considered a slave. The master's baby is identical. The slave mama switches the two babies so that her blond blue eyed yet 1/16 black slave child can have a better life growing up in the masters house while his real son grows up as a slave. How Indian am I?
 |
| I guess I am an installation in progress. |
I ate a big piece of cornbread and had some Mexican hot chocolate while enjoying a conversation with an anthropology student I met there. It was one of the best days I have had in a long time.
Then the chef picked me up and we went out to lunch in Georgetown.
Then drove home through the country fields of Pennsylvania. I loved seeing all the farms.
And finally got home to the pot-hole filled roads of New Jersey where you feel like you are driving over a mine field.
We were greeted by a feline who was feeling much better.
The End
Comments
Post a Comment