When Ruthie was here we went to Mass Moca to see the new exhibits. I wasn't allowed to take pictures on the first floor, where there was an exhibit called "Everything That Rises Must Converge." It was sort of cool because the artist had made the black tree stumps covered in black velvet with birds -- ducks, wrens, sparrows -- caught in the inky blackness and they couldn't fly. In light of the rig explosion, it was especially poignant.
On the second floor there was another exhibit that was cool. One of the artists made a piece that wound all over the space. It was white paper, wrinkled, folded, twists to points. I felt like I was in someone's colon. And another room was draped in white and a generator slowly billowed the drapes full and then just as slowly sucked all the air out. It was just kind of a lovely show.
But as I write this I realize that I don't have any pictures of Ruthie. Damn me!
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