“black bird singing in the dead of night, take these sunken eyes and learn to see.”

I’ll be candid. Normally I hate the Department of Visual Arts’ New York City field trip (last time, in sophomore year, I had the flu). I don’t really like cities, much less New York City, where it is a challenge to navigate the crowded side walks and the smell is so extremely distinctive. And I don’t really like getting up at 6 a.m. and getting back at midnight (it’s a marathon of a day). But this year, I count the sunken eyes and tired feet worth it.

I am a lot closer to the senior class of art majors than I was to the sophomore class of art majors. So hanging out with them was a lot of fun. Even if we did walk way more than can possibly be healthy. = )

Also, I am not as attached to or intimidated by tradition as I once was. I used to sit in museums and think, “I can never be an artist. Look at all this stuff. Look how good it is.” Or I would think to myself, “I can never be an artist. I don’t think this is art at all. How can I be an artist if I reject the tradition of art?” This time, when we visited the Museum of Modern Art, I thought, “Hey, this is great. Look at all this stuff. It’s beautiful! I’m gonna make something beautiful some day.” And when we visited the galleries in Chelsea, I thought, “No wonder these people are making such disturbing art. They live in New York City. I’m going to make art, but I’m going to make art that is true to my own little slice of life regardless of what is gallery-worthy or not.”

It was fascinating to see what NYCAMS students thought was gallery-worthy, too. The NYCAMS studios, which we visited over lunch, were beautiful. Hard-wood floors, big windows, the artwork the students are working through for their studio class hanging everywhere. Their one art class is basically whatever they want, culminating in a show at the end of the semester. The studios are seven floors up, so it is not nearly so claustrophobic as being on the street, and the kitchen area seems tranquil and focused (of course, I always do my best thinking in the kitchen anyway). NYCAMS students also get to work at an art-related internship, whether it’s working for a gallery, a design firm, or working apprentice-like for a painter. And that would be a phenomenal opportunity. Maybe it would be difficult to live in the city for me, but if I had some extra time at Messiah, I’d consider applying.

New York City is full of trends and absurdity, in art as well as in general. Some of the Messiah students who were studying at NYCAMS this semester showed us around and took us to their favorite cupcake cafe. “Cupcakes are so chic right now,” said Elena-my-roommmate. Yes, in New York City, even cupcakes can be chic. People wear the strangest hats and dresses over skinny jeans and high-heeled boots.

I engaged most with the city when we stopped for the cupcakes. I’m not that into cupcakes, no matter how chic they are, so I settled for a welcome dose of caffeinated goodness (i.e. coffee). Our group overwhelmed the seating available inside the cafe, so several of us retired to benches outside, and I ended up on a bench by myself. Not long after I sat down, an old woman in a plaid coat and a black scarf came out of the cafe and sat down beside me.

She started talking about how she is a pianist and walked in Chelsea at night once when it was dangerous (because there’s still such a homeless problem). She asked me where I was from and talked about the pace of life in the city and visiting her son and how it seemed boring to her but maybe it was peaceful for him. She talked about how hard it is to be an artist and that maybe I should consider another line of work or else choose to make mass art. She asked me why people make mass art? Well who knows the answer to that one?

I excused myself after ten minutes or so and went back inside the cafe to ask what time we had to meet the busses to go back to little ol’ Grantham, Pa. That conversation, however odd, made me realize that living in New York City could be valuable to a writer because there are so many strange characters to study and a particular rhythm of conversation that could be used to create an engaging narrative. But I think that I would miss slowly considered speech.

Living in a city could also be valuable in forcing one to develop a sense of architectural space, but I would definitely miss seeing green things and the leaves changing, actual silence and seeing the star-deep fields at night.

Filed under general, absurdity, the real world, travels, strange old women on benches | Comment (0)