Blog Archives
The Art of Getting Wet
There is an exhibit at The Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) in New York City that encourages men, women and children to stand, walk and dance in the rain. And, if cautious, you will not even get wet.
Wait…what?
Being surrounded by rain without getting wet is a groundbreaking phenomenon, but there is still something pretty wonderful about feeling those raindrops. Kids know this better than anybody. They instinctively get it.
Imagine that you are trying to catch a cab for a meeting in the city in pouring rain as your umbrella is flailing around in the wind like a dog wagging a chew toy. All the while you’re dressed to the nines to impress. Frustrating would be putting it gently. And yet, why are we angry? Is it really because of the rain?
No, it’s not the rain. It’s the meeting.
Hearing the rain while you sleep is a tranquil experience and being caught in a sudden downpour can be refreshing and oddly relaxing. It’s the sky’s way of giving you a timeout. A break from reality. Take a deep breath, close your eyes and spread your arms out wide and feel the stress drip away drop by drop. In a peculiar sense, rain serves as a personal rejuvenation.
And the best kind of rain is random. When we expect and plan for it, it becomes work. When we don’t see it coming and it arrives in the seconds it takes to glance up to the heavens, then it’s glorious. Depending on your mindset, it can feel like it’s right on cue. And yes, within those rain drops can be despair and heartbreak. However, they can also be filled with love, humor, fun, clarity, reflection or those desperately needed moments to exhale, “aaahhh.”
MOMA, in the heat of the summer, decided to offer its patrons and random museum-goers time to step into the “rain” by stepping out of their daily routine and Monday-Tuesday-Wednesday and Thursday self’s.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s raining because someone deep down wants and needs to splash in a puddle or two.
Think of it as your, “Big” moment. Well, in reverse.
This is Why Men Should Plant Daffodils
“Hope springs eternal…”
—Alexander Pope
“April Showers” dominate the four-day and extended seven-day forecasts. The glimmers of sunlight are brief and treasured. After those precious moments are predictably overwhelmed by gray clouds from the gods of overcast, the remaining hours are spent planning for a rain-soaked afternoon. Joyful activities are limited, which conjures up thoughts on the necessity of this seasonal downpour.
Why?
Brainstorming beyond the obvious ecological benefits, this specific month does play a central role in our seasons. Oddly enough, this thirty day stretch of continuous waterworks is beginning to grow on me with a petite quantité de charme (A “Frasier” rerun may have been on last night…).
Living in a city that vividly experiences the four seasons, Spring’s arrival thus far has been drenched. It happens every year. No surprise. But, at least there have been days, literally one here and another there, of warmth and sunshine reminiscent of the subsequent month. And yet, this forthcoming month of inspiring weather remains hidden, as if beneath the soil.
Or so I thought.
Singing in the rain is a wonderfully fun thing to do, especially when swinging around a beautifully decorated lamp post and landing in a giant puddle after a jubilant twirl. Even more though, warmer weather with clear skies brings everybody out from under the blankets and away from the televisions to experience the outdoor scene again on city streets and in suburban parks.
Sans the experience of singing in the rain, fun and liveliness fill the air with “Pleasantville”-like temperatures once Spring is in full swing. The spirit of the communities and its people skyrocket with many things, including imagination…even an imagination that lives beyond the perceived realms of reality.
Last Fall, my Dad and I planted hundreds of Daffodils in my parent’s backyard, including the gully. After months of quiet growth, they bloomed from the ground seemingly overnight to premiere a magnificent glow.
The row of golden splendor has provided reassurance that Spring in its traditional sense, however wet now, is just around the corner. It took a lot of digging, placing and covering, but the silver lining has shone through April’s heavy rain. The very sight of these fluorescent flowers would bring an optimistic smile to anyone’s face.
There are days filled with stormy forecasts that make you feel exhausted, worn down and stuck in the same holding pattern. And then, one random morning, you see this golden array of Daffodils.
Sometimes it takes several months, other times it can happen overnight…literally.
Here’s to a Spring filled with amour!
Jimmy's Daily Planet 