The Joy of Museums, the Horror of the Tax Scam and the Joy of Christmas

A photo I took today in the museum.

The depressing thing in museums is those people who have to stand around bored half to death making sure no one touches any of the exhibits. The standing in one spot has got to be draining and the blank stares on their faces attest to the tedium of their assignment.

That’s about all that I can find about the museum-going experience that is anything but joyful. The missus and I went to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (SF MOMA) today. I had been in one of my low moods when we arrived but strolling around a museum is an actual cure for the blues.

We’ve wandered around together in museums in Paris, New York, London, Helsinki, Berlin, Rome, Amsterdam and Berkeley to name but a few locales and I invariably come out feeling inspired, optimistic and energized.

Today our main objective was to see an exhibit of Walker Evans’ photography — he is best known for his Depression Era and post war urban photos including his work with James Agee on Let Us Know Praise Famous Men. We also some Pop Art including some of Andy Warhol’s in addition to paintings by Diego Rivera, Henri Matisse, Man Ray, Salvador Dali, Georgia O’Keefe and some up-and-comer named Picasso.

So what, you ask, is it that fills me with so much hope and joy from a museum visit. It’s not just seeing great works of art but the very idea behind it. People creating, using artistic expression to the fullest of their ability. Exposing the world and themselves, baring their souls artistically. Expressing ideas. Sharing themes. Bringing brightness to the world. Art museums are chock full of some of the best and noblest ideas of humankind. Not in the form of rhetoric or politics but through visions and feelings and interpretations of the world.

I similarly feel good in bookstores and libraries where one — at the risk of being obvious — is surrounded by books, many of which are another form of artistic expression while others are meant to educate, explain, and elucidate. Movie theaters are more of mixed bag with so many films not being artistic at all, but merely cynical ways to enrich the filmmakers. But to read literature or watch a film can help one develop a greater appreciation for the capability and desire that many people have to warm and brighten the word and make it a more interesting and fulfilling place. So to the museum.

I write this at a time when cynicism and crass, greedy profiteering are on full display in the halls of the US Congress where Republicans are enriching themselves and the very richest among us at the expense of masses — particularly those in greatest needs. And this at Christmas! Republican Congressmen no doubt watch It’s A Wonderful Life and root for Mr. Potter and hope that in A Christmas Carol Scrooge will remain unaffected by the visits of the three ghosts. The US today is afflicted by the most rapacious and morally repugnant government in its history and I hope to all that is holy there is hell to pay for those no good bastards.

It is an unimaginable state affairs in a country in which in  past politicians at least used to be more subtle and less aggressive about robbing the people blind. People who claim this is the greatest country in the world (a preposterous notion to begin with) had better explain how it has allowed itself to be run by such a group of immoral louts. And I haven’t even gotten to the low grade moron who occupies the Oval Office. He continues to disgrace the office of the presidency in ways that nincompoops and crooks like Nixon, Reagan and George W couldn’t have even imagined. He’s made the US an international laughingstock and if left at the reigns much longer the country will become a pariah.

There is hope. Mid term elections are less than a year away, the Mueller investigation continues apace and most importantly the resistance is strong, organized and determined.

As for me I enjoyed 13 days without depression and it was marvelous. To be happy, very happy, day-after-day, for nearly two weeks was a welcome relief from the mental misery that had marked so many of my days. Lamentably the good times crashed to and end and gloom descended again although today seems to be a possible swing back in the right direction. The curative visit to the museum was preceded by a pedicure and manicure which did wonders for my mood. As I write this I’m in a sort of limbo between the usual feeling of high or low. Bi polar disorder is my lot — along with PTSD, addiction recovery and acute panic disorder — but it hasn’t killed me. I don’t believe that it’s necessarily true that that which does not kill me makes me stronger but I do believe that what we can survive and endure can be a source of strength, comfort, humility and even inspiration. Anyway its Christmas and I’m expecting a visit from Santa Claus soon that will have us all feeling a bit more jolly. Our tree is up, it’s cold outside, my Christmas shopping is done and some much needed rain is on the way. Plus there are more museums. More art. More life. More hope. Here's hoping there always will be.