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Fifth Avenue from a window at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

This evening, Simone invited a number of people over for dinner. Sophia called in the afternoon to ask if I would help her buy wine and groceries. I said yes and we outside her building before heading over to Trader Joe's. We bought wine and then took the subway to the upper west side, transferring at 42nd street. An Andalusian fusion band played in the station, though no one stopped to listen.

After dropping off Sophia and her groceries at Simone's house, I decided to spend some time in Central Park. I wanted to read by the boat basin, wanted to listen to the creak of wood on metal as people guided their boats around the man-made lake.

I walked East from their apartment and then south from 96th street. South of the reservoir, I found myself on the 83rd Street traverse. I was walking next to traffic, and found it impossible to continue south. Soon, I had crossed the park and was standing by the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was not where I wanted to be.

The first time I visited the Met, I was in high school on a class trip to New York. There must have been an exhibit at the Met we were visiting, but I don't remember now. I remember buying a poster of Jackson Pollock's Autumn Rhythm. Our music teacher told us to find the painting of Joan of Arc where the background was painted in an impressionist style and the main figure in a realist style (Jules Bastien-Lepage's painting of 1879, titled Joan of Arc). She told us to turn around when we found it. On the wall opposite was a portrait that looked every bit like one of our fellow classmates.

This photo was taken from a window in the Greek and Roman galleries looking out the front of the building.

And dinner was fabulous. I might write about it later, elsewhere.