Having spent most of my life, so far, studying; having quit or left incomplete the random few jobs that I did take up; and in short, having contributed nothing of significance to the world or society in general, and remaining hungrily only at the receiving end, I feel immensely selfish at this point in my life. Unapologetically so, although very conscious of the fact.
I have always wanted to donate, volunteer, or rise up for a social cause. but that's my romantic ambition, more than anything else. my calling in life does seem to be the role of a sponge, to absorb continuously and never-end-ingly. and now I've realized the best way to be a sponge - when I'm alone. call it age or wisdom or an acceptance of solitude or self, but it has lately dawned on me why travelling alone has been revered so. plus, my definition of travel has changed. to be fair though, I always was kinda against the idea of short, weekend-ish trips to new places, but now even the concept of a long-ish trip has changed. I want not to pass through places, but to live in them, and move on to others.
DC has been kind and tractable for an almost slow person like me. its abundant impressive architecture, its colorful peoples, its ease of commuting and culture of walking, its varied culinary scene, the Potomac river, its parks and gardens and the benches within and roadside, its beautiful spring, its greenery, have altogether mesmerized me. and the list doesn't seem to end. for the first time in my life, I have started carrying a little sketchpad whenever I wander the city alone. and there's so much to capture, in details, unlike what a quick click would. Of course, not everything I want to capture, gets attempted; because very often my courage fails me to try and pencil what's in front of me onto my pad. but I am slowly learning to allow myself to try, despite the fear of failure. and it feels good.
It felt good to sit atop the little hill of Bookhill park trying to capture the street corner below me with the park sloping down toward it, to ring the church bell and sit within, first staring at the ceiling and its wooden beams supporting the conical roof and then copying it into my pad (the eventual curiosity of a nun did make me leave earlier than I would have liked to), to sit in the Freedom Plaza and watch (with other strangers) the youth skateboarding around - cheering them, and then drawing the skyline with the beautiful tower-like structures in the background; and then most recently, to walk without a purpose through the National Gallery of Art and finding sculptures so captivating that I just had to dig out the pencil and pad again. the thing about sculptures is (its also the thing about life or still-life for that matter, but not about scenes so much cos you cannot traverse the distance easily) you can revolve around it and choose the angle that you like best. NGA has some crucial Rodin pieces right now, and a beautiful one by Rimmer and a Magni (perfectly located by a window) that I stared at and couldn't resist drawing (the latter especially, very unsuccessfully).
The sculpture by Pietro Magni is in the picture below - The Reading Girl; the clothes, the chair, and the pages of the book look and feel (touch of imagination, because of course real touch isn't allowed) like fabric, bamboo/cane, and real paper (much used); and the girl even has a small tear near her left eye, all carved beautifully in marble.
