Author: cometsgirl

When I visited Crystal Bridges Museum four years ago, I had a major disappointment. James Turrell’s Skyspace, The Way of Color, was closed for upkeep. I was so sorry to miss seeing and experiencing this work.

For over half a century, James Turrell has worked directly with light and space to create artworks that engage viewers with the limits and wonder of human perception. An avid pilot, he considers the sky as his studio, material and canvas.

I have experienced several Turrell installations.

The Quaker Meeting House in Houston was my first.

Turrell states “I’m interested in the sense of presence of space; that is space where you feel a presence, almost an entity — that physical feeling and power that space can give.”

I have walked the Turrell tunnel at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts.

Art critic Calvin Tompkins writes, “His work is not about light, or a record of light; it is light — the physical presence of light made manifest in sensory form.”

I’ve sat in the Turrell space at the University of Washington,

and at Arizona State University.

Each space has transformed me for the period of time I spent in that space.

This morning we woke early and walked to Turrell’s The Way of Color in the dark. We took our seats in the space and awaited dawn.

Over the next hour we sat in the Skyspace, a naked-eye viewing chamber open to the sky. As dawn slowly crept, the space was awash in perpetual color shifts and changing conditions.

Sounds I heard beyond the Skyspace as dawn turned to day: hooting owls, chirping crickets, cheeping birds, people visiting and greeting one another along the trails.

We walked out into a new day, filled with solace, stillness and transformation.

Time to go get coffee.

Note the glass of sparkling water in the photo. It’s an European practice that serves to cleanse one’s palette during the drinking of certain espresso drinks, thus enriching the taste itself.

Glenn Gould says “the purpose of art is the lifelong construction of a state of wonder “.

That resonates with me. I often feel a sense of wonder in the patterns and palettes I notice all around me.

Just this morning…

looking down from my hotel room,

along the walk to get my morning cappuccino,

Even- or, especially, latte art.

Walking back to the hotel, we spotted a banner outside the OLD STATEHOUSE.

Talk about patterns. And history as well.

A video accompanied the show, featuring a number of descendants of the quit makers. One woman stated, “quilts are documents that can be read and from which we can gain great knowledge.” Using just scraps of cloth, these wondrous quilts were sewn.

On our way out of town, we stopped at Little Rock Central High School. Now a national historic site, Central High was the place of forced integration after the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 1954 that segregation of public schools was unconstitutional. The Little Rock Nine were nine African American students who integrated the school, accomplished only after President Eisenhower called in the National Guard.

Check out the design of the school which looks just as it did in 1954. Standing across the front grounds I gazed in wonder, both of the beauty of the structure, but wonder also about bravery and intentional justice.

We then headed north, taking by-ways instead of interstates. Our destination was Thronecrown Chapel in Eureka Springs.

The American Institute of Architects named the chapel 4th in the top buildings of the 20th century.

At one with the Creator God’s landscaping, it offered quiet wonder.

I ended this day with a personal taste of wonder. Cotton Candy!

Instead of taking the plane train to my terminal, I walked. I was treated to a couple of art shows.

An aviary cacophony,

and rock art,

Then from above, more art.

A quilt,

and sculpture.

This evening even more art.

Guacamole hand crafted at the table,

a God painting,

and a light show.

A fine preview of museum art to come.

Today I will be in the air and on the road once again.

This time I’m headed to Bentonville, Arkansas. While Bentonville is primarily known for being the home of Walmart, my destination is Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art.

Founded by Alice Walton (daughter of Walmart founder Sam Walton), Crystal Bridges’ permanent collection “spans five centuries of American masterworks ranging from the Colonial era to the current day”. Included in the collection is Asher B. Durand’s Kindred Spirits, Norman Rockwell’s Rosie the Riveter, and Andy Warhol’s Coca-Cola [3], as well as major works by modern and contemporary American artists, including Georgia O’Keeffe, John Baldessari, and James Turrell.

Alice Walton stated: “I knew this museum was needed. I grew up here and didn’t have access to art and I knew we wanted to change that.”  In addition, she wanted all people, especially children, to have the opportunity to visit the museum.  Consequently, admission is free.

Nestled in the Ozarks in the far northwest corner of Arkansas, the museum takes its name from Crystal Spring, a natural spring on the museum’s wooded site, which feeds into the museum ponds; and from the unique glass-enclosed bridge that links the structures.

While the majority of the art is displayed in the series of buildings that make up the museum, sculpture trails throughout the grounds and adjacent woods offer other art-viewing opportunities.

Even “do-it-yourself” art.

As you can see, I have been to this place.  Four years ago a birthday celebration brought me here, and I have long wanted to return.

And so I shall do just that. I hope you’ll join me.

Traveling mercies.

 

I journeyed to North Texas this week for the purpose of experiencing firsthand the new spaces and places where members of my Texas family find themselves today.

Retirement, college, employment.

Time to visit a place often visited in the past.

A last coin challenge.

Time to commend and celebrate.

Time to visit the new.

And walk into dorm life for a visit.

Time to knock on a new door.

And catch a glimpse of employment.

And time to continue a decade-long tradition.

I have been in the midst of this family for a few days, and caught a glimpse of new wings. I navigated and negotiated Texas highways through gridlock, confusing highway signs, and thunderstorms.

I’ve had laughter, wonderful conversations, and walks where I caught a glimpse of others engaged in passages. Literally.

Now time for me to journey home, I’m filled with images of passages, memories of shared spaces, and joy in having experienced pieces of these passages myself.

Traveling mercies.

I’m journeying to Texas today to visit the spaces where my two oldest grandchildren are experiencing passages of some import.

Jack turned 19 this week, and has gone off to college.

Georgia, having graduated from college with a nursing degree 9 months ago, and secured a job, has moved into her own apartment.

They each will usher me into their new living and learning spaces. It’s important to me to share these spaces with each one for a time. I want to know what to visualize when I think of each of them.  I want to listen and to hear, to see and to experience these new chapters.

Their father, my oldest son, is about to experience a passage of his own.  At the end of this month, he will be separated from the U.S. Navy.  Having served 28 years as a naval aviator, his service to his country as a member of the military comes to a close. I expect there to be a “pre-separation” fete soon after I arrive.

All this has me thinking about passages as I myself move through the sky.

Life passages can form, revise, and restore. Especially if one is open to possibility. While I have less passage opportunities ahead of me than my children and grandchildren, I find I’m still in the mix of moving through and toward. I’ve no intention to dawdle.

Come along. Let’s see what these passages in Texas look like.

Traveling mercies.

Those who gather do so for a variety of reasons. To honor. To celebrate. To share. To mark a milestone. This particular gathering was for all the reasons just mentioned.

While the achievement we marked on this day of celebration could be seen as an individual accomplishment, it was not a solo effort.

Many who gathered this day, had shared some of the drives, the walks, the climbs to the highpoints. Others had encouraged, supported, cheered on. Offered prayers.

It took fifteen years. Years of lives lived as the determination to succeed grew. With the successes, came some disappointments. Followed by increased determination and desire.

And so it came to pass, SUCCESS!

All 50 state highpoints accomplished. Done. Won.

Time to gather.

Tools of the effort on display.

Let the gathering begin!

A call for a speech.

A much louder call: “the highpoint pose!”

It was a GRAND moment.

Choreography was at the center of yesterday’s arrivals. At one point both my brother and I were in the air at the same time soaring to the same destination. Since our landing times were hours apart, pickup and subsequent activities required choreography.

There was a kind of choreography even as I landed. Having arrived 30 minutes early, the meticulous planning that airlines must do was thrown off. The captain informed us there was another plane at our gate and we must wait until it departed to park and deplane.

While we waited, idling between gates and runways, I could see outside my windows another kind of choreography. Aircraft was arriving and departing, making their way from gate to runway, from runway to gate. I had a front row seat.

While this transportation played out, other transport choreography was at play. My pickup party was caught in traffic by a drawbridge in the up position. An unexpected choreographic move brought them to a temporary halt.

Soon I was standing in my place as my pickup pulled into that same space and reunion was sweet and joyful.

But wait, there’s more….

The Sounders, the local MLS team was soon to begin play. And this family has season tickets. So off we went to to the soccer game. My daughter-in-law, my grandson, and me. What a surprise! It shouldn’t have been, as this family seems to move about in its choreographed activities with great regularity.

So I took in a soccer game. Talk about choreography! The scene on the field was precision as the ball was in play  they went on to win, with a great fireworks display.

 

Todd showed up at half-time, surprising me; then he was off to the airport for my brother’s arrival.

We all arrived home at just about the same time. It would have been exact, but that pesky drawbridge made another choreographed move.

The day ended with evening conversation around the fire.

By then my time-choreography askew, I retired to bed.  I had been awake for 20 hours as I moved through distance and time and I had one final move left, a pirouette into bed .

Every state in the United States has an identified and declared highest elevation point. The “lowest” highpoint is in the state of Florida- Britton Hill, elevation 345′; and the “highest” highpoint is in Alaska, Denali Peak, elevation 20,310′.

My youngest son set out 15 years ago to summit each of the the 50 state highpoints.  Highpoints range from the ridiculously easy – some you can drive up to the highpoint;  to the RIDICULOUSLY hard, the most difficult being Denali. Denali takes a minimum of three weeks to summit.

On July 22, 2018, Todd summitted, Borah Peak, Idaho, to complete his goal of having summitted every state’s highpoint!

Just over 300 individuals have summittted all 50 state highpoints. He is number 305.

Many friends and family members have joined Todd on a number of state highpoint summits. Even me.  I joined him for the South Carolina and Tennessee highpoints. I also have North Carolina and Georgia on my puny highpoints list. And most recently I experienced the “highpoint” of Tórshavn, Faroe Islands. Haha.

It seems all this began with a small book I bought in a state park gift shop over 15 years ago.  It was to be a stocking-stuffer- interesting facts and figures.  It didn’t end there.  It ended on Borah Peak.

I have found that as a mother, you “get” to participate in many of the highpoint efforts.  Especially the higher, and the highest, ones.  Your participation is through prayer, concern, worry, fear.  Your participation is also through pride, joy, and celebration.

Today I journey to the great northwest – Seattle – to be part of a gathering of friends and family to celebrate Todd and to celebrate this HIGH milestone.

There is another Heckel in the highpoint wings.  My oldest grandson has 21 highpoints to his credit.  I gave him the book pictured above last year.  I also suggested he wait on the Denali attempt until I have completed my highpoint summit to on-high.

 

For the next 30 hours or so I will be making my way home.

The slog began with a bus ride from the hotel to the bus terminal to transfer to a larger bus for the 45 minute ride to the international airport.

The views on the way to the airport reminded me of the first time I traveled to Iceland and was astounded by the look of the land.

Keflavik Airport has seen such an increase in flights bringing so many to this island country. Art has a prominent place

Thanks to Evan our travel is filled with convenience, including access to Saga lounge where the seating, and the food & drink, made the waiting time so very pleasant. This part of the slog home is no slog at all!

Flying time estimated to be 8 1/2 hours. That’s a slog for sure.

I had hoped to see Greenland as we crossed over, but solid cloud cover precluded any views.

Cloud cover now breaking a bit over Quebec. A beautiful sight to see- a glimpse of an engine and a wing holding us aloft.

I’m reminded of a poem that pilots claim describes the experiencing of flying aircraft.

I’ll have tonight in Dallas and an early flight to Atlanta tomorrow. I’m grateful Evan will pick me up as it’s likely I would not have any slog left in me for the two-hour drive to my mountains.

I’m blessed to have you all along for this most excellent adventure!

Traveling mercies.