At The MOMA when the Flag came Down

For reasons that I can hardly understand myself, I was sitting smack dab in the middle of Manhattan, NYC. It is a beautiful night and it has been a stimulating and fascinating day. Of course, it could not be anything else here in the Big Apple. Even thought we were in Brooklyn last December, checking in on a friend's new venture, it seems as if I have been away too long.

I have lived up in New England for the large majority of my years, and I must say my personality blends much better up there.  The quiet reserve and the self depreciation, even if it hides a smug sense of slight superiority, fits me well.  But I was born here, in Brooklyn, and NYC, is and will always be, the center of the universe. It is the place where things really begin, where it all happens, where everyone is.  There are enough people here who care about anything and everything. They make it happen, whatever it is. They come here from all over the world to make it happen. It is brash, noisy, nosey, loud, dirty and crowded. It is diverse, accepting, stimulating, provocative, and inspiring.It is expensive!

We only stayed a couple of days and we have did lots. We went to the MOMA, we went to,the Whitney.  We walked the Highline, we drank at the Carlyle for $20 a pop. We walked up Madison Ave past Gucci, Armani, Loren, Buccelatti, Coach, DKNY, and dozens of others. Rows of places selling watches for $1500, $15,000, $150,000. Handbags,handbags, handbags, I guess everyone needs a dozen, almost,as expensive as the watches. Keep your stuff in them. Your Botox, your Xanex, your iPhone, your make-up and your works.

We were there less than a week after some crazy kid went into a church and murdered Black people.  He acted alone, they say.  But at the MOMA we saw the paintings by  Jacob Lawrence, the Migration Series, that he did  about 80 years ago. In series of 60 pictures he explored how Black People were beaten, exploited, burned out and lynched. Mr. Roof did not act alone, he was part of a long tradition.

At the Whitney there are four floors of over a hundred years so American art.  For a hundred years ( I know it's much more) American artists have shown in many ways, how racism in America is pervasive, how bad times are worse for for poor people. Yet, there are so many rich people who sponsor these artists, and who endow the big new museums that are full of all kind of art that depicts how the rich exploit the poor.

We were there when Obama gave yet another speech about how our country seems to tolerate the senseless killing of innocents on almost a monthly basis.  But it also seemed as if the sun began to peek through the clouds. We were there two days before the Gay Pride parade.  We were there when the Supreme Court handed down the two decisions that seemed to move the world slightly in a different direction. We were in New York when the people in South Carolina began to take down the flag that had been flying for a hundred and fifty years after the war ended.

Does that mean the war is over?  Does that mean that artists can begin to paint more colorful pictures? Maybe not yet. But as all the gay couples stood up straighter, smiled and waved, and felt a bit more a part of our country, and some Balck people see that at least more people are realzing that somethings may have to change, it may mean that Dr. King might be right, and that the long arc of history is pointing a bit more toward freedom.

The sun was shining, people were smiling, and it seemed like everyone, from all over the world, was just hangin' out, enjoying the day.