I schlepped my two year old daughter through the dead of winter, carried a 45 pound stroller down the subway stairs, allowed kind strangers to hold Ambra’s hand to guide her down the steps, caught the 6 Uptown, and walked several blocks to get to our desired destination. Herculean effort. There are so many things that I want to see and do. For me. And unless I take my shadow, it’s not going to happen. I often wonder if the energy and coercion expended is worth the trouble. It is. Every single time. Our trip to the Guggenheim was worth all the hullabaloo that we managed.
Frank Lloyd Wright’s design for the Guggenheim is a masterpiece. The spiral and rotunda made the experience dealing with the art singled out in my mind’s eye. Because Ambra and I started at the top, we walked down at a sloping decline versus the intended design of incline or ascent. It kept the mind fresh and present in the environment. It’s truly an awe inspiring, and hallowed space.
Photography is not permitted outside the lobby. Which really bummed me out. However, I left feeling artistically filled with inspiration for art, film, and photography. I learned about the movement referred to as “Italian Futurism” which occurred from 1909-1948. To be a Futurist is to be “modern, young, insurgent.” I love the idea of that sensation being spread from art, literature, film, and self-government. It quickened a surge within me. I want to be a Neo-Futurist. The future is here. It’s today. This very hour. The future is housed in every choice and stride we make.