philadelphia

the streets of philadelphia are unlike those of new york (exhaust-choked jungle of steel and glass) or dc (neoclassical marbled monoliths). the beautiful two-hundred odd-years-old buildings are juxtaposed against modern skyscrapers, but instead of competing, they seem to complement each other. even the condition of the roads is better (however, the traffic continues to be disgusting). i feel much more at ease in this town. nevertheless, i remain undeniably in america. the droves of homeless in parks, for one, are just as prominent as nyc and dc.

the rodin museum houses a collection of his sculptures. i think the gates of hell would've been much more impressive if it had been cast two or three times bigger. rodin certain does beautiful hands. more rodin sculptures are found in the nearby philadelphia museum of arts. this place is somewhere between brooklyn museum of arts and the met. van gogh's sunflowers is here. the real thing seems less vibrant as the prints, somehow. but the host of cezannes, renoirs and monets are fabulous. upstairs are various rooms beautifully decorated: a japanese tea garden, a hindu temple, a chinese temple, a qing-dynasty room, fransciscan monastery, 16th/17th/18th/19th century european interiors etc. a marvellous few hours.

also interesting was the eastern state penitentiary (ie prison), a decaying ruin abandoned after 141 years of holding prisoners in solitary confinement. even in the 30-degree heat it felt damp and eerie. the thirty foot walls seemed silent and solemn, as if reluctant to speak of the suffering they have witnessed.

before i left dc, somehow, bec and i managed to catch up for dinner. it was another instance when shit just comes together. it was wonderful, sitting in the mild breeze by the potomac, talking, listening, just being.