Monday, July 21, 2008
overcast with bright sun
Sunday was a typical summer day in San Francisco.fog hanging hard over the Bay, northern winds that feel Alaskan bending branches and flipping hairstyles, a cool 13 Centigrade for my French readers.Otherwise a balmy 25 just a few hills away.
We were heading to the Legion of Honor Museum, high on a bluff overlooking a tempestuous Pacific. I do not know the whole history of this building, but you can see the traces left by my compatriots
.Add a copy of Rodin, and a tiny replica of the pyramid number deux of the Louvre, and you could see yourself crossing a Parisian courtyard, high heels ricocheting on the beige stones.
Surprise, a giant glass sun, try to warm the day.This amazing and typical sculpture by a artist named Chiluly beckoned like a single glow left after some grey and dreary nuclear disaster. It is bright, it is wild, it is astonishing, but it leaves me cold.That darn sun didn't manage to warm me a bit. We went to see and hear " la Boheme" in the sweet theater inside the museum. When I sat down, the pianist alone was playing some beautiful music and I wanted to record the moment.By the time I figured out settings on my camera, the famous and dear Donald Pippin was a ghost leaving his chair.
It was a glorious moment, tale of love,death, and the magic beauty of flowers: I cried.the voices carried the emotions to my heart. I was warm then.
The day ended at my friend C for a wonderful evening of delicious food, friends and the cosy glow of fire.That is your sweet payback for an overcast summer day in San Francisco.