a flower every day

6th visit

on my ride to MoMA, i was thinking a lot about the time aspect of The Artist Is Present, and how my relationship to time and how i chose to spend it, might change over the next 2 months.

after all, one of the reasons i am participating to the extent that i am is to gain a better understanding of my own priorities and how they impact being present for my work.

my father hated crowds and refused to stand in lines, and while i am not quite that extreme, there is a lot of him in me.  so i was a bit surprised to find myself on a sunday (first time i have visited on a weekend) waiting to sit, but in honor of spring (and this project) i had picked some crocus’s for marina and i guess that had predestined my intention.

now, depending on whether or not one intends to participate, there is a considerable difference in the experience of observing the performance .
first is vantage point, the line for sitting is in front of marina so the only view you have of the sitter is from the back.  as i wrote in my last visit post, for me there is a definite advantage to observing from a point where one can experience the energy between the sitters.

and there is the difference of freedom, as a simple observer, you have control of how long you stay, if you want to see the rest of the exhibit, look from different vantage points, etc. as a potential participant you must give yourself over completely to the timing of the performance that day.

and, no matter how i try to be present during the wait, the line has it’s own energy, people on it talk, people who are observing come up and talk to you, and there is always a little tension around how long those in front of you will sit and, of course, if you will actually get to.

today the energy in the line is rather lovely, mostly women, pretty much sharing the feeling that just being there is participating. two women in particular, both students, one in front and one behind me are very much locked into the energy, one has to leave after about 4 hours to catch a flight home, but (a bit unexpectedly) coti (above) at literally the 11th hour becomes the last sitter. 

the flowers come back to brooklyn with me

on my way home, riding across the manhattan bridge there two rollerbladers coming downhill towards me, one is clearly learning to skate so they are proceeding with caution, behind them is a cyclist.  now the cyclist, after a fairly long, steady uphill climb, is cruising down the ramp, but now he has to brake because of the skaters. he could have swerved out into my lane to maneuver past them but he is considerate enough not to cause me to have to brake on the incline.  the look of exasperation on his face however, at having to slow down, is clear.  i give him a “i feel your pain” smile but inside i am thinking: “dahling you have no idea what waiting is all about”