Geneve Journal: 20 yrs--> Outbound

On this day, twenty years ago, I was on a plane to Geneva, CH.  It was the long awaited release valve that was sure to be the cure for my ales.  My lack of attentive journaling at that moment is annoyingly scant.  This current me would like to know more of what that previous me was thinking about.  However, as I reflect on the spare clues left in this journal, I'm starting to recall memories to fill in some gaps, and these memories of a middle aged fellow feel as if they can adequately approximate the impressions of that guy back then....I'll continue thinking that until I have evidence to the contrary.

I had completely forgotten the haircut my mom had given me, taking off around  a foot of hair, leaving me with a shoulder-length bob.  Man that was long.  I still have a hank of that hair somewhere.

My air journey originated in Omaha.  My mom waited with me at the gate before boarding - United 480 for a 10:50 AM departure.  I remember being pretty amped up and just wanting to get the trip underway.  I was impatient.  It was one of those moments (and I've had many) when I was most certainly forsaking the present for the promise of an beckoning future.  As pleasant as it can be to have a loved one waiting there at the gate with you, your my head is already on that plane - in travel mode - and has been since you arrived at the airport.  I think that the one good thing about the post 9/11 air travel reality is that the point of separation of you from your loved ones happens at an earlier and more logical point.  The realm of the airport is that other space.  Being there, inside the airport, you've already departed from the city you are leaving and it feels natural that goodbyes should be said on the threshold of this limbo rather than at some point in a terminal food court, or other such place therin.  It's awkward at best and heartbreaking at worst, when one is leaving and one is staying, and both  are leaving the building - through separate exits.

 I had spent a couple of days with my grandmother and mom in Iowa prior to boarding that flight in Omaha. I remember sitting on my grandmother's back patio, fixated (and drawing) the view of the cemetery that was just behind her place.  My haircut happened then on that patio, too.

Prior to spending a couple of days with my Mom and other family in IA/NE, I was in Bentonville Arkansas visiting other family.  In fact, just today as I was sorting through various sketchbooks, I found this pastel drawing of Buttons, my grandparents' dog.

Buttons, Bentonville AR, May 16, 1992.

Speaking of Bentonville Arkansas, just last week I went to Brooklyn to record a conversation with Carolina Miranda for a forthcoming Dead Hare Radio episode.  The topic of our conversation was the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art - located in Bentonville Arkansas, a short drive from my grandparents' house.

An utterly undecipherable view of the roof line of Crystal Bridges.

Carolina and I had both made trips to the museum which opened last November.  By chance, I've been able to make three quick visits to the museum since it opened and soon will post some images and reflections on the museum soon.  Carolina followed up our conversation with an extended write up of her impressions of Crystal Bridges on her blog C-Monster.net.  

Speaking of Carolina Miranda, her hubby, El Celso is conducting a Kickstarter campaign (La Luz) to fund an art installation at an ancient Incan site in Cusco, Peru.  The medium of choice for the installation?  Inca Kola.  The sample images of what Celso plans look pretty beautiful with the effect of light playing off the yellow soda.  I'm anxious to see this in its planned Peruvian context.
I've pledged a wee amount to help support the project - and you can too.  Behold the Gold!

Speaking of Kickstarter, I am preparing to hold my own campaign in June to raise funds for an art making journey to Geneva that will mine this experience of a place and a moment, twenty years later.  I'm shooting to run that campaign for the month of June.