This February, Tammy and I flew to San Francisco from DC to visit our dear friends the Gins for what has turned out to be an annual Lunar New Year family & friends dinner. It had been over a year since my last visit to the Bay Area; Tammy and I were among the negative net migrants to the City between 2020/21. Honestly, 2025 felt a little better than 2024 although I was hella frightened of street crossings in Union Square where we were staying (i.e., I had a constant fear of being hit by a Waymo driverless…) Get a grip, I told myself (which meant don’t jaywalk.) The SFMOCA was featuring Amy Sherald: American Sublime. I walked four or five blocks, past Saks Fifth Avenue that is now by-appointment-only (no doubt a response to organized smash and grabs; but honestly – retail stores don’t hold much inventory anymore anyway.) In the post-pandemic age, San Francisco is still eerily quiet and slow. The museum was no different. After paying $25 (senior discount), I asked which way to American Sublime. “Oh, it’s on the 4th floor but that will be another…” $45 later after being warned I only had 40 minutes to walk through the museum, I rushed to the elevator. Not a problem on either score. 30 minutes after being awash in American Sublime’s luminous large scale canvases, I caught the elevator to the second floor in order to exit, and came across a wayfinding sign to an installation I didn’t know about prior to entering the museum. I hobbled in a hurry down the stairs on my new knee (5 months post-op total knee replacement surgery.) Kara Walker’s free publicly accessible installation was on display:
I was in awe when I read the wall text: “…inspired by a wide range of sources, from antique dolls to Octavia Butler’s novel Parable of the Sower, Walker’s new commission, Fortuna and the Immortality Garden (Machine), considers the memorialization of trauma, the objectives of technology, and the possibilities of transforming the negative energies that plague contemporary society. Here, automatons trapped in a never-ending cycle of ritual and struggle are repositories of the human soul.”
Often when I encounter art that I connect with, I’ll either laugh or cry. I meant no disrespect when I was audibly enjoying Fortuna and the Immortality Garden (Machine.) Although I doubt anyone heard me breaking out in joyful noises other than the security guard. That’s fine. I felt like I was in church with Fortuna and Kara (in spirit.) It’s what I needed to see and feel in preparation for the book launch of The Ephemera Collector – limitless, unbound, unafraid, speculatively subversive. Connected.
