New York, July 2006:
By the time I arrived at the American Museum of Natural History fifteen minutes later, I had almost forgotten the chance encounter in Central Park and had started humming Masquerade from Phantom of the Opera which I had the privilege of experiencing the night before.
By the time I arrived at the American Museum of Natural History fifteen minutes later, I had almost forgotten the chance encounter in Central Park and had started humming Masquerade from Phantom of the Opera which I had the privilege of experiencing the night before.
I climbed the stairs and held the door for a gentleman who was exiting the museum as I tried to enter. He nodded his thanks and, hearing me humming the familiar Phantom track, burst into a grin and started humming as well. For a moment, I was afraid that we were going to be forced into an impromptu musical song and dance routine (à la Disney) right there on the stairs but he turned from me and continued on his way audibly pleased with his mental orchestra.
I chuckled to myself, remembering my Keats, 'Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter' referring to how music that plays in your mind is perfect, limited only by your own imagination.
I entered the building and bought a ticket to wander the grounds and started doing so, heading first to the epic Cosmic Collisions space show and from there to the rest of the exhibits I wanted to see in the little time I had before closing. As the day wore on, I found myself less and less likely to be disturbed by others (read: children) as their parents noticed the lateness of the day and left the building for one reason or another.
It was when I entered the Hall of Human Origins and saw Jessica across the room that I remembered that she was going to be there. She was facing a Homo Erectus display and hadn't seen me yet. I puffed out my chest and took one step toward her when, also apparently not seeing me, the angry man from the Museum of Modern Art briskly entered the room. He grabbed her arm and roughly spun her around, "Where is it?" he demanded, hissing through gritted teeth.
"It's not yours, Leo." Jessica answered calmly, a small quaver in her voice the only evidence of her fear.
"I've more right to it than you or your grandmother ever had!" His voice rising, his statement filled with poison and disdain.
"Before you killed her, I promised her you wouldn't get it," she spat, "I intend to keep that promise!"
What?? I had just been thrust into a highly uncomfortable situation. I stepped slowly backward, out of the room. The one thing I knew at that moment was that I didn't want them to know that I had heard any of their obviously incriminating conversation.
I chuckled to myself, remembering my Keats, 'Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard are sweeter' referring to how music that plays in your mind is perfect, limited only by your own imagination.
I entered the building and bought a ticket to wander the grounds and started doing so, heading first to the epic Cosmic Collisions space show and from there to the rest of the exhibits I wanted to see in the little time I had before closing. As the day wore on, I found myself less and less likely to be disturbed by others (read: children) as their parents noticed the lateness of the day and left the building for one reason or another.
It was when I entered the Hall of Human Origins and saw Jessica across the room that I remembered that she was going to be there. She was facing a Homo Erectus display and hadn't seen me yet. I puffed out my chest and took one step toward her when, also apparently not seeing me, the angry man from the Museum of Modern Art briskly entered the room. He grabbed her arm and roughly spun her around, "Where is it?" he demanded, hissing through gritted teeth.
"It's not yours, Leo." Jessica answered calmly, a small quaver in her voice the only evidence of her fear.
"I've more right to it than you or your grandmother ever had!" His voice rising, his statement filled with poison and disdain.
"Before you killed her, I promised her you wouldn't get it," she spat, "I intend to keep that promise!"
What?? I had just been thrust into a highly uncomfortable situation. I stepped slowly backward, out of the room. The one thing I knew at that moment was that I didn't want them to know that I had heard any of their obviously incriminating conversation.
Crap.
(Sony DSLR-A100, 35mm, f/5.6, 1/60, ISO 100)
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