This weekend was non-existant. Five days of work and two days off is a luxury to many, but if you're doing something that you hate (or in my case is just time-filler), it just feels like a permanent prison sentence. God, I want to travel so much I think I could go mad. I've got to see England. And even the Pacific Northwest, for that matter. I feel somehow anxious knowing I've been here in Los Angeles an entire year. Where did the time go? Truly, I only feel like I've been here about 4 months, since that's how long we've had the apartment alone. The rest of the time felt like being at camp or something. Everything still feels very transitional, as if I have not alighted on any particular river bank just yet.
This weekend we went to the Museum of Contemporary Art downtown. Truly, the museum's gift shop was even more fun than the actual museum, which was exhibiting De Kooning's many many paintings of women. Good Lord, why are women such a mystery to men? All of these paintings depicted the female forms with fuzzy, chaotic, anxious lines and colors. Never in focus, never calm, never with beauty or light. This was a person who seemed mystified and terrified of his subject. Everything made sense after seeing a sketch he'd done of his wife, who was looking at him with these huge, sarcastic eyes as if to say, "You don't get it. You'll never get it." And, truly, I sometimes wonder what the big mystery is. Are we really all that complex, that we cannot be understood? That our thoughts seems to be as inscrutable as black paint screeches across canvas?
The coolest and most upsetting thing at MOCA was the "Lash Mat," which was a rug looking thing, about six feet long and one foot wide, which upon close inspection, turns out to be covered entirely in human eyelashes. *Shudder* I will never forget it.
Afterwards, we explored a bit of Chinatown, which seemed like a touristy ghost of its former self. This did not seem like the place where most of the Chinese live anymore, but only go there to work in little gift shops selling paper parasols and carved buddhas. But who knows, I could be wrong. I found it to be in contrast to New York's Chinatown which bustles with hurried people and attacks your senses with completely unfamiliar gutted oceanic creatures hanging from windows. Still, I feel that I didn't get the whole picture this weekend, as I feel often is the case here, and will keep looking for the real thing.