I think by this time I also realized I should've prepared more physically for this trip (I know, it was still only the second day and I was worried my body wouldn't be able to handle anymore of it). My legs just weren't used to spending all day working since I usually spend 8 hours a day, 5 days a week sitting in a chair. After spending all day yesterday walking around the park and back and forth from Terry's place to the train station, they were starting to protest all the work they've been taking on during this trip. I managed to give them a sort of break by transferring between three different train lines just to get me a couple blocks closer to the MoMA. However, I think that with all the walking to the transfer spots, I probably negated any benefits.
But back to the MoMA. Umm, let's see how much I can actually remember. I think the lower floors were dedicated to modern art exhibits as well as the "revolutionary artwork" exhibits they were hosting. On the upper floors were exhibits by famous artists. Names like Warhol, Van Gogh, and Picasso come to mind, but really, I can't tell the difference between who created what. Oh, they had that famous one by Van Gogh on display... "Starry Night." (sorry, no pictures as there was just too many people standing in front of it the whole time). Anyways, forget all those words, here's some pictures
Umm, honestly I don't know what else to write about the museum. I really didn't take a lot of pictures but I do strangely remember certain exhibits, though writing about them doesn't sound too appealing to me and it probably isn't something you want to read. I promise I did walk the entire museum this time and I looked at 90% of the art pieces there. Most types of modern art don't really appeal to me. Usually it looks like someone just threw a bunch of stuff together and said "I've created art" and then someone pays them for it. Or maybe that's just my own jealousy coming out as I've thrown a bunch of crap onto a page and no one has yet to pay me (I need to write more). Honestly, I think I mostly hang around art museums and places like them just to steal ideas for potential writing pieces (At least I should be able to come up with something even from those pictures above as I've sort of hit a block recently). And as a friend just told me a couple days ago, I need to write more... or you know find another hobby... or start coming out instead of hanging out at home. The funniest part, I think I spent more time looking at books in the gift shop compared to the individual art displays. And yes, I did bring some home (There seems to be no limit on the money I'll waste on books).
After losing track of time, I remembered that I was supposed to meet Terry for lunch at Shake Shack. And, obviously when you're running late, everything that can happen to make you even later will happen. So I exited the MoMA and forgot which way the station was. I started walking in one direction, knowing there was a station somewhere on that street but never found it (it was probably in the other direction). I asked a doorman where the station was and he pointed me in the exact opposite direction I thought it was but I figured what the hell, he was probably right. A couple blocks later, I eventually found the station and then need to back track to the stop Terry told me to get off at (I think that guy sent me to the furthest station he could think of). But the burger was delicious. I'd definitely recommend it. The Shack Stack Burger! Hamburger patty, deep-fried portebello mushroom, melted cheese. I'm usually horrible at describing food and this time is no different so I'm just going to say that you need to eat this. No, I don't have a picture of it as I was too busy stuffing my face with it.
After lunch Terry had some errands to run, but recommended I check out the financial district. I hoped onto another train and headed downtown. I got off the train and I think I must've missed the stop because I ended up at the World Trade Center. It was a pretty far walk from the station or maybe it wasn't. I saw a sign saying "World Trade Center Memorial" with an arrow and I followed it for a bit until I got distracted by something else and then I got lost. Honestly, if you asked me to backtrack it for you, there's no way I could. At one point, I ended up by some pier. I had to walk around for a bit until I ran into tour group heading for the memorial so I just ended up sticking with them for a couple blocks.
Outside, it almost feels like a small park. with stretches of grass, trees, and a couple of benches. And squirrels. How the hell did squirrels get there. It's not like there was anyplace else with trees nearby. Especially so close to the financial district, or at least within sight. Do they import the squirrels? "It's not a park without squirrels," some city official might have said, "get me a couple of those furry bastards and throw them in the trees."
And I know what you're thinking now, "Why are you stalling?" Well, I'll get to that.
The first part of the memorial are the fountains. Both are perpetual waterfalls: what looks like a thousand individual streams jet from the top and fall to the chasm below and from there flow down into the hole at the bottom. It looks even better at night when the lights illuminate the water, turning them into streams of light.
But what really got me were the names. Around the outside of the fountain is everyone who died that day. And I walked around both fountains. And I just kept thinking to myself that eventually I'll come to a panel along the edge that is blank, that perhaps the names have finally ended, but they don't. The names wrap themselves around both fountains.
Aside from the fountains there is also the 9/11 Museum itself. I really wasn't planning to go in, but after walking around the fountains I felt compelled to go inside. Plus, I really had nothing else to do and it was too late to go anywhere else (honestly, if you've been paying attention, I really don't plan anything, mostly I just choose a place and wander around it). And I was just in time for the last entry of the day. Umm, before I go on... umm... sorry, I'm usually really good at finding words (I have a degree in it, after all), well, just don't go by yourself, ok. Just don't. I'll get to that later.
Upon entering the museum, well, the first thing was getting searched. Like airport security search. Empty your pockets, take off your shoes, take off your belt, x-ray your bag, full body scan searched. Inside, over the loudspeakers, a summary of the day is played as well as brief statements from people who witnessed it, people who were there. They say you never forget where you were that day. I was watching TV that morning probably about 6am or so before school. Pokemon or Histeria! or some sort of cartoons. And my parents rushed into the room and snatched the TV remote from me. I saw part of the news before they sent me to get ready for school.
The first part of the tour displays surviving portions of the buildings (girders, original building foundations, a portion of the staircase survivors used to escape), the history of the World Trade Center dating back from the time it was built, and other items of historical significance. There are also several walls covered with donated pictures and artworks from around the country,
A giant flag made of other donated flags from each of the fifty states,
And a donated art piece entitled "Trying to remember the color of the sky." One tile for each of the victims and no tile is the exact same shade of blue, representing how each person would see the sky a little differently. Then there was the "no photography" section displaying the names and pictures of all of the victims. And the no photography carried on into the next exhibit: a breakdown of the day's events. A timeline of the day on the walls leads you through the exhibit, through room after room depicting the attacks in detail. Newspaper clippings, donated first-responder gear, personal effects, and even found wreckage are all on display. And then there's the testimonials and recorded phone calls played in tiny alcoves in each room: first-hand accounts from people who escaped from the towers as it collapsed around them, first-responders at the Pentagon, final calls from the passengers on those airplanes. I think it was toward the end of the exhibit I realized why there is no photography or recording; first is out of respect for the victims, second, well, honestly, this isn't anything you should be carrying around with you. Not to offend anyone who was there or lost family and friends, but this experience isn't something I'd wish to have on a camera to bring up on demand. Obviously, like all memories, they'll bubble to the surface every once in a while, but it isn't something I would think anyone should willingly and constantly expose themselves to. A lot of scenes were hard to watch, hard to hear, hard to experience. But you have to look at all of it, to take it all in (at least I felt that I had to), not only for the history of it all, but out of respect. There was a quote that summed it all up best, though I can't remember the exact words. It was during a video of the people jumping from the upper floors, the people who knew they weren't going to be able to get down after the planes hit. I don't remember the exact words but it was something along the lines of "We watched them jump. Out of respect we couldn't turn away."
After this experience I decided that I needed to gorge myself on something akin to pure happiness. Booze was the first thing that came to mind but unfortunately, I didn't really know any bars around Terry's place and the thought of stumbling around New York in search of a train station wasn't that appealing. In the end, I settled for hitting up Shake Shack once again and scarfing down another of those delicious burgers. Also, some random homeless guy threw a football at me. It was a low pass, but I really think I should've caught it. Umm, I know it sounds like a pretty uneventful way to end the day, but then I wound down by just watching a bunch of YouTube videos before passing out on the couch.
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