Bad Day Turned Good

Before I officially get all serious on you,  here is a fun picture. I like to call it, "Me and a sea slug in the blinding sun." 

You're welcome.

   Two days ago started off in the exact way a bad, or just plain "off" day would begin. There I was, standing alone in the room. Suddenly a tall and handsome man approaches me. He somehow can sense that I am sad. He says nothing, but only reaches out his big, comforting arms to hug me. I am instantly calmed and reach out to him. As I start to lay my head on his shoulder, FWHACK! I bash my head on the concrete wall my bed rests against. OW. I move my bed further from the wall and feel the desperate need for coffee and perhaps more gentle hugging skills...

   There is a torrential downpour going on outside as I decide to make my way to a nice indoor activity. As I've explained, the roads here generously throw out random gifts of potholes. Also, I have decided my windshield wipers are on island time. Even on full speed, they........take.....their.....time.........as..... they ....swisssh .....bacccck ....and .....forth. (Not so helpful in insta-monsoons) I'm riding along as the car next to me discovers either a gift the road left for him or a new river on the interstate. SPLASH! I am pounded with a wall of water. I am blind. I remember the semi next to me. PANIC. Island time windshield wipers...............decide to wave. I can see again and all is well. Somehow I make it to the museum alive. And the sun is now beaming. 

   Museo De Art De Puerto Rico did not disappoint. I entered at the children's activity floor(naturally) and was instantly enamored. You could write on the walls. There were tables with various artist tools to draw pictures, displays of different types of wood mediums used for projects and how to differentiate them!!,(flashback to grade school when my Mom and Pop helped me with an amazing map of the United States composed of all different types of wood;native to each state of course;with descriptions and characteristics in a binder)and an area where you could draw yourself.

There I am at the bottom :) 

   There were several pieces that gave me chills and at least two that admittedly got my tear ducts tingled. I absolutely adore seeing different interpretations of a certain art period based on culture differences. It's really amazing. PR changed drastically after the United States took over. Many pieces were dedicated to remembering the island's way of life before this happened. 

   One extremely touching piece was two figures facing each other but looking in to the distance with blank stares and gazes. There were red balls between them representing lost loved ones. The blank stares showed they were still heartbroken and unable to move on from their losses. One of the figures was barely holding on to a red ball with that empty stare. The piece perfectly captured heartbreak over the loss of someone too intertwined in your heart strings to cut them loose without damage. As I stood in the middle of the room staring, I realized tears were welling up in my eyes.  

   My favorite painting was a perfect capture of El Yunque as cloudy fog is passing over the top. It displayed the rainforest's lush greenery in a splendid sea of vivid verdes. I could actually picture myself standing right in the middle, amazed by the beauty of that mountain. I really wish they would let you take pictures in there. 

   You know what I -can- have pictures of?? Me holding another random critter. 

Biggest frog I've ever seen in my entire life!! 

   Outside the museum was a great sculpture garden...where I proceeded to locate a mango tree that had littered the ground beneath it with perfect little fruit. I made two armful trips back and forth to my car. I was not ashamed. 

This is a tiny concrete armchair in the garden. There were several. I sat in one just to do it. 

   And then I headed home. I was supposed to be helping Omar and Rheanna move. I got lost. It started pouring rain again. I rear ended someone. That's right. I glanced down to try and see if I just missed my turn again. Everyone in front of me slammed on their brakes and BAM! In the pouring rain, the man whose car I hit, steps out, looks at his car, looks at me, smiles, waves me off, and gets back in the car. I clumsily attempt to gather up my entrails as I shift back into gear and get out of the way of the honking cars. I somehow make it back home; in time to help nonetheless. 

   So there was my day. I failed to mention losing Rhe's cutting board into kitchen oblivion. It fell behind an attached cabinet never to be seen again. Nice.

   But here's why it wasn't as bad as my mind thought it should be. My car is fine(guess there are benefits to driving a little log wagon). I still am enthralled with the kindness of most here. The museum was soul soothing. And I didn't get all that upset over anything. As Rheanna mentioned, "Maybe the island is starting to rub off on me."