thoughts springing from the portrait gallery

I went to the Portrait Gallery for the first time yesterday. I know, I know...two years here and I haven't been. And what's even sadder is that I go to Chinatown a lot, so...I walk past the museum a lot. Anyway, I figured I'd kill the early part of an afternoon and check it out, especially because of the American Presidents Portrait exhibition.

I really liked the second floor. I went upstairs and first came across the sculpture of The Dying Tomahawk (excuse me please if my memory has failed me here. The name was along these lines) which reminded me of The Dying Gaul. Allow me a moment to get off topic. I just have to profess my love of this statue and maybe because it is such an incredible and, yes, even a little triumphant, portrayal of my Celtic heritage. Because, when you look at it, the Celt is dying but he's still strong, raising himself up and fighting against his defeat. Which is something I think the Celts did until the very, very end. I will definitely be making a trip to Rome to see this in person.

Anyway...back to the museum. There was another painting that I didn't get to see the title of, but it's in an enclave all by itself (it's huge, for one) and the room was draped with red velvet curtains. It's of the Sierra Nevadas, I heard someone say, and is breathtaking. Looking at it, you just have to wonder about what this country looked like to the first explorers. I think occasionally you can still get a glimpse of this, but...well, you'll have to take a look at this painting. Go to the Portrait Gallery if for nothing else than to see this painting. Second floor, you can't miss it.

On to the American Presidents: What I liked about the exhibition was the statues and portraits and busts of the first presidents. I have always been enthralled with the start of "American" history, with these giants of American history. They were brilliant and articulate and courageous and while walking through these portraits I had to wonder: Have they simply become legendary to pass on the dream?

Is it possible that they really were larger than life even during their time period? And I don't just mean the very early Presidents, but all those early figures. And even throughout history there have been extraordinary people: Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great, Cleopatra, Boudicea, Napoleon, Socrates, Aristotle, Chief Seattle, etc., etc.

I'm reminded of that Shakespeare quote from Twelfth Night: "Be not afraid of greatness: some men are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them." Which speaking of Shakespeare, he is definitely included in the above list.

Or were they simply ordinary people doing ordinary things and legends, like chopping down the cherry tree, started to spring up to make them larger than life? I find this difficult to believe, and I don't even want to believe it. I like believing there have been towering people roaring through the pages of history. Going back to Shakespeare, when I've heard people spout the theory that it was several people writing under the name of Shakespeare, I want to refuse to believe that. Why couldn't one man be so intelligent and eloquent that words flowed from his pen in lyrical brilliance?

Which leads me to wonder about today. Are we too cynical to recognize and encourage that one-man greatness? Or is it something that will only be recognizable generations later to historians looking back? If the circumstances create the man, then I think the circumstances are there. And in today's world of instant news, I would think we'd be able to pick him out in an instant. Or if he's out there, are we, the cynical society, just looking for an excuse to knock him down?

In other news, also sparked by my trip to the Portrait Gallery, I did have a new idea while on the second floor. I won't say anything about it now, mainly because I don't really have anything more than the seed of the idea that I really need to work on fleshing out. But I love the rush that comes when a new idea hits me, the excitement and the urgency of needing to write it down. As it came to me, I just wanted to run home and start typing. Luckily I had a piece of paper and a pen and could jot down the few key ideas so I could enjoy the galleries a little longer. But...that's what I'll be working on today probably.

happy anniversary to me

Two years ago today I moved into my apartment in DC and, if I remember correctly, spent the evening putting together my futon so I could sleep that night, and using a packing box as a dinner table with a Whole Foods ready-to-go meal being served out of the plastic containers.

Oh yeah, it was that classy.

And now, two years later, my apartment is packed with bookshelves full of books, proper and clean plates (they were still in the boxes when I ate that first dinner).

So I have survived for two years, though there were a few periods where survival was questionable (usually right around December or January). And, last year as well, as the end of July starts creeping up and it's time for me to decide whether or not I want to sign on for another year, I think about and think about it and think about it some more.

And I made the commitment (and actually added a few extra months) because even though the last two years have been good, you know what they say: Third time's the charm. So...I have a feeling my third year in DC is going to be great. I feel like some things are finally starting to get in order, which I think will give me some more opportunities to do some more of the things I want to do (I know...very cryptic), and I've got some ideas as well for the upcoming year.

Once again...happy anniversary to me.

I have a new goal

I love to travel and even dream about traveling. I like thinking up new places that would be incredible to see and add them to my list of places to visit. Which...that list is now practically every country in the world. But I have a more definiable goal to state (and state it so I will eventually keep it...theoretically). I want to visit the 7 Wonders of the World.

Eventually I'd like to up that to the 21 short-listed wonders, but I figure that those 7, along with Paris and Greece, aren't bad places to start.

It just may take awhile, and some other trips may come up in between.

I know these were announced almost two weeks ago, but my colleague and I got to talking about them while discussing August's National Geographic. I don't think it's out on stands yet, I just got mine the other day, but right now I'd suggest picking it up. I'm already ready to plan a trip to Mexico (and hey! then I could cross Chichén Itzá off my list!)

words inspired by...

BookEnds had such a great post today on the inspiration behind the agents' love of books. I've decided to add my own thoughts on those who inspired me to love books and become a writer. Because...well, I'm not so sure it's something innate. Talent may be, but I'm not sure about the passion. And so, we have:

My Mother It must have been every night that we stayed up reading when I was little. Sometimes it was a novel with a chapter (or two or three if I was on top of my persuasion game) and other times a short book. And I also saw her with a book, or a crossword puzzle, during downtime. Which, with little girls, probably wasn't very much. And of course that fostering of this love by buying me books. I had my own little library going back in the day with Nancy Drew and The Baby-Sitters' Club, among others.

My grandmother She inspired a love of story telling, even if our tastes have since diverged. Primarily I credit her with getting me interested in mythology with a story of Thor. And of course she also did, and still does, have stacks of book lining the living room.

Robin Williams Growing up I was in love with Dead Poets' Society. I wanted a teacher like Mr. Keating and I wanted, at one point, to become a teacher like Mr. Keating. And even though it was more about thinking for yourself instead of reading, you can learn so much by reading. And of course, there is that one scene where they're beginning to read poetry and he has them rip out the "how to measure poetry" section from their books, to teach his students to delve beyond, to the feeling inside the words.

Carrollton-Farmers Branch Public Library Anyone who knows me now knows that I prefer to own my books. Yes, somewhat of an expensive addiction. But when I was little, I looked forward to summers and the...I don't want to say contest, but I guess that's what it was, that the Library had to encourage reading. You got little prizes and maybe your name on the wall for finishing a certain number of books. It didn't take me long to finish, but it was one thing I looked forward to (and yes, I know...I was a nerd and probably still am one).

Ayn Rand As an adult there are several authors I'm drawn to. I'm listing Ayn Rand because I love the story and the philosophy behind her novels and I love the characters that she creates. I don't think I could ever write a philosophical novel, but Atlas Shrugged is my favorite novel. Along this same line then, other authors that have drawn me to read more and write are Anne Rice (her worlds are incredible!), Thomas Jefferson, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and I could really go on and on here.

Mrs. Morris My high school Creative Writing teacher. I took her two creative writing class and loved pretty much every minute of class. Well...except the reading part. Reading aloud terrified me, but I did it, in class and in some of the few Writer's Group meetings I was able to attend. When I was home over the holidays I went through this old trunk of stuff to do a little cleaning and organizing and came across an award for Creative Writing I received my senior year at the Senior Awards Ceremony. Each subject gave an award out to an outstanding senior and I hate to say it, but I'd forgotten I'd received this one. I remembered I got one in Economics since that's partially why I changed to an Econ major, but I didn't remember that I received the second one, which I think at the time may have meant more. I was almost tempted to bring it back to DC with me and hang it up next to my degree. :) My teacher knew that I wanted to be a writer, and with that award, she told me that she thought I could be one. That was a nice thing to remember.

Ok, I'm done. I know there are others, especially writers I love since there are so many, but these are the few who came to my mind first. I know several of the people who read this also love to read. So...who has inspired you? Or if it's music or...art, etc., that you love, what are your inspirations behind this?

a little warm

It was more than a little warm outside. So what do I do to add to the heat? I make pasta with an Arrabiata sauce, which apparently means "angry." Basically it means I add a lot of crushed red pepper (and I think I may have added too much). It definitely had a little kick to it. I like my food spicy, but I did have to get a glass of milk in order to get rid of the tingly feeling along my lips. It was great to cook something again as it's been a few weeks since I've really done something in the kitchen and I miss that. I don't know if I'd go so far as to say I'm a good cook, but I do love it.

I'm also having fun with the new digital camera.

I went back down to the Mall this morning/afternoon to check out the new exhibtion at the Freer and Sackler Galleries: Encompassing the Globe: Portugal and the World in the 16th and 17th Centuries. This is another exhibition that I recommend. There were boxes and swords made of intricately carved silver and ivory, and others made out of tortoiseshells that were nearly translucent. There was this globe that turned into two goblets by breaking in half, with the Southern Hemisphere supported by Atlas and the Northern Hemisphere supported by another, smaller globe (or something...I was caught by Atlas and the idea that this sculpture broke into the two goblets).

It's interesting because I don't think Portugal was really thought of as a major player back in the day. They started off strong, but when we (or at least me) think of the colonies, it's England, France and Spain. But Portugal had influence not just in the New World with Brazil, but also throughout India, Japan, China and Africa.

There's a lot to see at the exhibition, and it's broken up into the spheres of influence. And if you are looking to escape the heat, you could do worse than to spend a few hours in a musuem. It was freezing inside!

And of course the Folklife festival is still going on. I cruised through it on my way to the Freer. I visited last weekend and walked through it more, but today I overheard some Irish singing and some Mekong drumming. I wish I could get my voice to mimic the Irish singers, but I think I'd sound ridiculous if I tried. So I'll leave that to Enya.