Washington, DC April 14-21

I planned a spring getaway to visit my daughter in Washington DC. She works for the Human Rights Campaign. She found a new apartment and was preparing to move. I made sure that I timed my visit so that I could help her. My instincts told me to book a flight, get to Washington, rent a uhaul, make the move, enjoy a day or two with my daughter in the city and fly back. I resisted these instincts and took the train. The Capitol Line left Chicago early on Tuesday evening (April 14th). I sat in the sightseer lounge, facing the large windows, watching the city gradually dissolve into countryside. The same was true of Toledo, Cleveland and Pittsburgh. Country became city and city became country. This is not like traveling on the interstate. There are no fast food joints or hotel chains, no manicuring, no sanitizing. It is simply the countryside and glimpses into the world of others. It is remarkable to pass through a town, getting very quick glimpses into peoples lives. Stories are told quickly, and associations are made. Emotions are felt. At night, there is a kind of warmth in the islands of illumination. Yet, the emotions felt were not warm, fuzzy or Rockwellian. The trip took seventeen hours...it went too fast. There are others who share my enthusiasm for traveling in this way.

In addition to my suitcase, I brought a small black presentation box of my work...small etchings which can be shown easily. I had hopes of capitalizing on my show at the Butler Institute in Youngstown, with the intent of showing my etchings to possible contacts in Washington. None of them worked out, however. It was disappointing. I also called a gallery in Chicago that I have been interested in for a few years. I determined that, on the return trip the following Tuesday, I could walk to their gallery from the train station (a little over a mile) and upon returning to union station later in the day, could catch a bus back to Wisconsin. Sid at Printworks Gallery initially declined my offer to visit, but instructed me to send them a disc with images. By the time the conversation was over, however, I had an appointment to show my work on Tuesday morning (the 21st) at 11:15 AM. With all the activity of moving my daughter in DC, I had forgotten that I was going to call Printworks on Saturday to confirm my visit. Remembering it on Sunday, I called and left a telephone message confirming my Tuesday morning visit. On Monday (my return train did not depart until later in the afternoon), I was complete concentration, madly drawing the view out the back window of my daughter, Claire's new building...it was the backside of the adjoining neighborhood. I had noticed it immediately when we were in the process of moving, and this was my opportunity to put it down on paper. My phone began to vibrate in my pocket. Standing and fumbling my sketch book, I answered. It was Bob the co owner of the Chicago gallery. He and Sid have been best friends for 40 years. He told me that they would not be able to meet with me, telling me that Sid, who is 85, had fallen and cracked some ribs. I hope that Sid is okay, but I guess sometimes things are simply not meant to be. I was hoping to use the influence of the Butler show to make some good contacts...perhaps another time.

When I arrived in DC on Wednesday afternoon, Claire, my daughter, was at work. She walked to her apartment so I could drop off my things. She directed me to Kramer's Books, which is not far away. Nearing the store, I saw a sign for the Phillips Collection. I went there instead. It was wonderful. The afternoon went quickly.

The time in Washington was spent renting a uhaul, moving my daughter, helping her to get settled, and enjoying the city with her as my guide. It was good for a former city dweller to once again be in the thick of it.