In a way, the world really is a playground. Like kids in the sandbox, our communication to one another still resembles this interaction. We haven’t changed that much, except to disregard it, figuring we are adults and more than that. As I get older, I love to watch people in museums, as it always intrigues me what happens when their guard is down. Who worries about being cool. Who really is watching what goes on. The difference, per ce, between looking at the Avedon show at the SFMoMA, to those looking at the O’Keefe/Evans show, to those trying not to look at A Sac of Rooms All Day Long by Alex Schweder, was amazing.
I love the guards at Museums. The ones in Philly really were very interested in their charges. At the DC National Gallery, you can often get a guard to talk about a piece and get their feeling about it. MoMA guards have more of a sense of humor about the pieces. Museums are somewhat guarded playgrounds, like libraries, but playgrounds none the less.
So, no matter where you travel, or where you are. From the sidelines, adults, cool, or not, still remind me of kids in the playground. There is a joy to seeing art, there is even a exhilarating bewilderment in seeing greatness. Whether it be the first time you go to a zoo or aquarium, a landscape, a citysite or a museum. The world provides us with endless opportunities to become fresh, new and intrigued by things in our own backyards.
This is a link to the first Photostory3 essay I ever did. I did it for my kids in school, but rarely bother with it today. They were more interested in being in their “playground”, than watching about it.