27 august 2018

One time I was determined to visit my favorite piece in the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, in the Temple Room, and I didn't realize the museum was about to close, and we had to go through rooms where they'd already turned off the lights to make our way out.

I try to visit this one every time I'm at the museum; I just feel calmer whenever I get to see him. He dates from the 12th century and is made of Japanese cypress with gold. Museum materials call him Amida, the Buddha of Infinite Light.

Amida, the Buddha of Infinite Light

I feel most at home in these sort of neglected, utilitarian places, the unrenonvated upper floors of the 1960s-built university library, the 190th Street A train station in New York, the wide stairways where I used to study while awaiting a ride home in high school. All of them good places to see autumn foliage, come to think of it.

The view of New York I miss most is sunrise on a cold Sunday morning, as viewed from the elevated section of the 7 train in Queens. On the way out to Flushing, maybe.