Sitting in the tranquil dimness of my room, listening to the abrupt cicadas and breathing in the soft end-of-summer air, I find myself thinking of my childhood in California. I so often long to return there, but is it a longing for California itself or for the nostalgia of childhood? I think of Monterey Bay’s black lava-like rocks and bobbing otters, the aquarium's colossal, plate-glass room, opening like a giant foyer to the sea’s own mysterious mansion of living rock and giant kelp colonnades; the fog fading into the morning warmth in the old streets and quaint houses at Carmel; Junipero Serra’s sunset-colored missions surrounded by flowering bushes shaking in the breeze; the fantastical double-decker carousel at the Great America amusement park in my hometown, San Jose; the warm, cerulean water at the vibrant beaches where seals bellow to each other and cover the rocks and piers like fat, whiskered sunbathers.
And I think of the Museum.
When I was child, I wanted to be either an archaeologist or a paleontologist. I lost interest in paleontology when I realized that you spend most of your time digging very very slowly, not popping already-assembled Tyrannosaur skeletons from the ground every other day. But my interest in archaeology stayed strong despite my phobic terror of mummies. Mummies be darned, I love Ancient Egypt. I don’t remember when my infatuation started, except that I have a vivid memory of being about seven years old and standing in the Rosicrucian Museum in town and gawking in awe at a section of painted tomb wall from a pyramid’s interior. Sheltered from the fading effects of light for thousands of years, the paints had retained the vivid deep blues in the midnight skies and the rich golds and scarlets on the figures and accents. Looking back, I now realize that they were probably replicas, but the effect on me was the same: I suddenly understood that ancient artists didn’t actually paint in faded colors - their art was as colorful as many of the paintings we create today. How much, I wondered, of ancient life itself was like this - archaic and outdated today, but vibrant and real in its own time? In fact (I thought to myself with a dawning amazement) the people of the ancient world didn’t think of themselves as ancient, but as modern. I wondered what museums they visited when they were alive, and if they were busy swatting flies on hot days just like me.
For a long time after that visit, I dreamed at night of sneaking back there, past the museum’s alarm system and back into that room of sapphires, golds, and burnt umber. Who knew what really happened when everyone turned off the 20th-century light bulbs and left that room alone with just the darkness and cricket songs?
Wow, Gypsy. You are a poet and a great storyteller. Your post really resonates with me because: a) I think that Monterey Bay is Heaven on Earth (but I did not discover it until my late twenties).
ReplyDeleteand b) I, too, grew up with the dream of first being a fossil hunter (paleontologist or geologist) and then later became obsessed with Ancient Egypt).
I went so far as to go visit a professor of archaeology at the University of Cincinnati through my parents' connections when I was a 10th-grader and trying to figure out where and what i was going to do for a living. He told me that archaeologist had two basic routes in the U.S. They could take the sociology route and study a branch of archaeology connected with anthropology. He recommended chemistry, biology, and statistics as important subjects for taking that path. The second route was through the objects found in excavations; that way lead through art history. For that, you needed foreign language, a willingness to work with physical "things" instead of interviewing or studying people, and an interest in the art. I had all three of the latter areas covered hands-down. So I knew then I was destined for working at a museum someday.
My husband took me to the Rosicrucian Museum on my earliest trips to Central California and I experienced what you describe.
My question to you then, is have you been to the Egyptian wing of the MET in New York City or the University of Pennsylvania's Archaeology Museum? Both are spectacular journey into the mythic past. Penn Museum's Ancient Egyptian collection is the largest in the United States. They have full-size original columns and tons of statuary. And mummies, lots of them.
It is so nice to hear that this spoke to you, thank you for the comments! Sadly, I have never been to the MET or to PA's Archaeology Museum - but you have piqued my interest big-time. I am now dying to go to both, so thanks for the recommendation!
ReplyDeleteI agree that Monterey Bay is heaven-on-earth. That, followed by Carmel, Harpers Ferry, and the Brandywine Valley.