Easy Does It

Walking up the stairs at the Whitney last night was worrisome. Straining to walk a few flights when I'm ready ostensibly to run a marathon? It did not inspire confidence.

I took refuge in art--some of it provocative, notable or entertaining and the rest uninspiring, irritating or mystifying. It was the biennial show and it was predictably uneven. I got cranky early on reading the walls. The word "plethora" set me off. I couldn't "navigate" all of the "juxtapositions" and "shattering narratives." Call me a wimp, but I just couldn't stomach it. Whoever writes the turgid descriptions of the artists and art should be made to sit on their hands. It is distracting and unnecessary and begs the question why we need a lot of bombast to "contextualize" rags on the windowsill and plants growing out of tanks filled with bright green and orange bubbling Gatorade. The folks at MOMA know how to write persuasively in plain English. The curating at the Whitney may be part of the problem.

One item has stayed with me. It was a short, black and white film about six blind people who step up one by one and touch an elephant. They didn't know ahead of time what they would be encountering and their reactions are fascinating. We hear their impressions as each describes their experience of Beulah the elephant as it's happening. More telling was the way they touched her. One younger man explored her as if it was his lover's body--with eagerness, fascination and delight. His hands kept sweeping over her deeply textured skin, taking her in. He couldn't get enough of her. It was really wonderful. He even said "Beulah, you're beautiful," which I found so touching. When he got to her legs, he said something about her wearing a size 30. Such affection and awe for this fantastic animal.

Some didn't want to have much to do with her. They felt uncomfortable. One guy poked at her tentatively with his fingertips and compared her features to other animals. Another barely touched her at all and made his dislike known. Each of the six spoke also about their blindness. Some had never had sight. Others had lost it. The one woman in the group said she dreams in sound. She knows she has woken up when the sound stops and she hears other people talking. I've always wondered what happens when blind people dream. The film is called "Letter on the Blind for the Use of Those Who See" and it was shown in a very small room with a row of six chairs, matching the six people in the film. There was something just wonderful about seeing the elephant's body filling up the screen so that it formed a kind of wallpaper and dwarfed the person reaching for her.

Back to the minutiae of my life on the run. I got into bed on time pretty much last night. A minor victory. I lay awake much longer than I expected, but still got more sleep than I've gotten before most Saturday runs. I thought that would make a difference. Think again. We ran down the West Side bike path from Riverside Park and once again, I was dragging. When I run with people, it's usually someone who says they're "taking it easy" because of an IT band problem or something or another and "don't want to push it." I'm still getting used to the orthotics. It's definitely an improvement for the right foot. Not sure about the left. I have a few more runs to get it sorted, but no long ones before San Diego.

Climbing five flights to feed Martha's cat today wasn't quite as much trouble as the stairs of the Whitney. Of course, I promptly fell asleep as soon as I stretched out on the couch and Ellie starting purring on my chest. This afternoon I wanted to hang out on the stoop practicing the banjo, selling stuff at the Theater for the New City street fair and charging people a dollar for the privilege of taking Dooley's photo. Some folks want me and my banjo in the photo, too. I'm not crazy about that. My back couldn't take it out there for very long, so I packed it up. I think my body would appreciate some time in the pool. That's on the agenda for tomorrow morning. Do I need more sleep? Less food? A cattle prod?

Today: 6 miles
Miles to date: 292.4