As God is My Witness, I'll Never Take These Things for Granted Again

Last night, we went to the first Walker After Hours since the Jasper Johns exhibit (my calendar tells me that was February 15, 2020). I realized during the times when everything was closed that I really missed visual art, but even as museums re-opened, I just had not made it back — timed tickets and such just seemed hard to suss. And I knew very little about Julie Mehretu.

As we pulled into the Walker garage, I started to get really nervous. We were there right at the start of the event, and the line was long. Really long. I was thinking about the number of people that would be inside and almost bailed. But the Walker required vaccination cards, and masks, so I just decided to stick it out, and I was so glad we did.

First and foremost, I loved the art. I'm excited to go back and see the exhibit again, and to bring Beatrix. I could write for hours about the details and choices.

It was great to see the band (Annie Mack) and realize how much I had missed live music.

Bust most of all, it was amazing to run into friends, and to people-watch, and just to be out. I had literally forgotten what it felt like.

It was a very restrained event from what they used to be like —  more space, scaled-down food and drinks, and the band played in the space where the shop used to be (the shop has been scaled down, but it still super fun to browse in). But it felt...right.

Today we went to yoga, which was inside the brewery, and hung out and talked to friends afterwards, and that too was ... again, just right.

And then this afternoon was the Intercultural Life Families of Color fall event at SPA. After 19 months of zoom meetings, it was surprisingly impactful to be in the same space with people.

I'm not saying things are *normal* (though right now, after my 3rd shoot, I'm on that optimism bump). But it was nice to feel like it for a little.