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November 7, 2007

art at this moment

It is not a museum although it claims it is.
It is called the Museum of Contemporary Art, San Diego. It is even not as good as the Museum of Contemporary Art, Cleveland.
Of course, neither can compare the Museum of Modern Art, New York City.

However, I find myself enjoying the MCASD because of the building. The design of the museum, which is rather a spacey gallery in my opinion, captures the light.
And turns the sunlight into rainbows.

I stare at them on the floor, hesitating whether I am allowed to use a camera there.
And it occurs to me that the "museum" does not display or own the rainbows, the art at that exact moment.

San Diego is artificial.
It feels like a huge theme park. The "historical" part of it does not attracts me because of its undetectable age. It is nice and cute in a way that provides travelers food, drink, and window shopping memories.

Little Italy is not Italian for me. It is not full of loud people. It does not smell like coffee, wine, bread, or fish. It looks pretty and clean.
Old Town is not old for me. I pass by at least three times before I notice it is there because there is a sign saying "Old Town".
Downtown is where hundreds of thousands of conference goers play. Oh yeah, we play pretty hard. Almost impossible to get into the parties thrown by MIT, for example.

But I encounter arts from Tim Cantor.
If you like Cirque du Soleil as I do, you will like paintings of Tim Cantor.
I was supposed to go to the party of UCSD, but his charming art caught my eyes. I stopped and entered the gallery. I was amazed by how lights are represented by his artistic sense.

It is like after a show of Cirque du Soleil, I need to be alone or be in a quiet place to settle my thoughts and to move on with my thoughts with new inspired thinking.
My mind is suddenly overwhelmed. After a day of neuroscience, after a weird experience in a social event, and after Tim Cantor's artificial lights, I went back to the inn.

Some art is so transient as the rainbows on the floor of the museum.
Traces have to be consolidated to be remembered.
Or just sleep on it to release myself.



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