Happy Labor Day weekend, friends! Hope you’re having an exciting and/or relaxing weekend.
Recently – dare I say it? – I’ve been missing New York. More accurately, I’ve been pining for “New York-y” experiences. Part of what makes living in NYC so exciting is all the great cultural activities. You want to visit a museum? Great! Do you prefer your classic Met experience, or perhaps you’d rather explore a whole museum dedicated to the art of the Himalayas? Maybe the Museum of the Moving Image is more your style, or if you’re feeling saucy, there’s always the Museum of Sex.
All these options are great, but they also contribute to this nagging sense that you’re never getting the most out of your city. New York is a place that emphasizes insatiable consumption: ever-more expensive real estate, exclusive fashion, exotic restaurants, and esoteric arts.
The upside of this pressure was that (to avoid FOMO) it became a habit to wander around MoMA during free Fridays or join the dance party at the Brooklyn Museum on free first Saturdays, see the ballet or the symphony a few times a year, and sing along with bands playing festivals in the park. Many of my friends worked for the NY Pops orchestra, art galleries, or dance companies. Some were actors. This was their normal, and I was happy to embrace it as mine.
Colorado provides a whole different set of options: do you ski or snowboard? (Neither…yet!) Which fourteener do you want to tackle this weekend? Which craft beer do you want to sample? It’s been so much fun learning about this new way of life (and there will be a post about an excursion to the Garden of the Gods soon), but I felt the craving to wear high heels and do something weird.
And so, on Friday I went to Denver’s Museum of Contemporary Art to enjoy live music on the roof and explore some exhibits.
I drove downtown, parked, and then walked up to the museum, feeling very cool and in my element…until I tried (and failed) to get into the museum. Thankfully, I’m not the first person to have this issue:
From the museum’s website FAQ:
I cannot find your front door. Help me.
Our front door, located at the top of our entrance ramp, is a large sliding black slab activated by a motion sensor. It is frequently confused for a wall. After hours, or when the door is inoperable, you can access the museum from the service entrance located in the fire lane.
Entry issues aside, it was a glorious evening and just what I needed. The roof was populated by tattooed hipsters listening to mildly strange folks-y music and enjoying views of the city, and the museum walls were hung with rope wadded up in squares of resin or found canvas covered in scribbles.
It felt like going home.
Even after 10 months living in Denver, there’s still a lot I haven’t figured out – sometimes it feels like I’ve barely figured anything out – but I’m excited to have a life that allows me to be outdoorsy and artsy with equal ease.
Living this new life is going to be an awfully big adventure.