A Day at the Museum

So my roommate and I consider the Met Gala our Super Bowl. The way we rate and critique the outfits of the attendees would make you think that we were the head designers of the House of Dior and Givenchy, respectively...plot twist, we're not. But we made it our mission to go to the Superfine: Tailoring Black Style exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum.  

Superfine: Tailoring Black Style 2025

Though we couldn't make it there together because of our busy schedules, we went individuality to see before it left. As I entered the exhibit, my body relaxed into the routine of standing still, reading and observing, and as I creep slowly through the displays, it dawned on me. 

I haven't been "filling up my cup".

I have been so busy from survival jobs to personal projects to commissioned work, that I haven't made time to be still, be inspired and create space for new thoughts, ideas and emotions to come through. Being able to be in one place for almost two and a half hours, consuming beautiful and powerful art was a gift that I needed and forget is at my fingertips.

Make time to recuperate, rejuvenate and "fill up your cup." Do something that sparks joy, play and creativity in you.  

There, I struck up a conversation with a mother and her children, two bright-eyed pre-teens, who I could hear asking questions of their mother when I was close enough to hear them. I asked what they thought of the exhibit, and though they were new to the concepts and history of it, they were excited to share what they learned. 

They didn't know much of the history but to witness it, engage and understand it helped them draw connections and I found myself sharing my thoughts and knowledge of the exhibit. One wanted to go thrifting immediately after, being so inspired by some of the clothes she saw.

We make and curate art and art spaces like these for children to be curious, to ask questions and to discover. 

The serendipity of a conversation with these young people in a place full of legacy after reconnecting with my personal feelings of play, joy and being in the present moment was pretty profound at 1:42 pm on a Monday.

Continue to create art with the children you wish to reach in mind. Give them something to be curious about, to ask questions about, to be engaged with. Make their eyes light up.

Then down the hall, I stumbled upon another gallery, which at the Met, I'm always stumbling on something new. Witnessing Humanity, the Art of the John Wilson was a wonderful surprise and I plan on revisiting the space to read every plaque, but John Wilson's work was a perfect way to cap off the visit. 

Prolific and profound, Wilson's work captured his life as a Black American as well as others around him, exploring "racial, social, and economic justice." The use and mastery of all the different mediums blew my mind and the dedication to document and preserve his humanity and the humanity of others struck me deep. It reflected my "Why" and reminded me of the multitudes of stories and experiences I hold within me that I feel draw to preserve. Even the swift browsing of his work was enough of a balm for the over thinker, and tortured artist. I felt closer to my own work and voice by taking in his.

Reconnecting to your Why will help you find your way back to your purpose. In understanding the larger picture, you can guide your efforts, voice and vision with much more ease. 

John Wilson's Roz No 9, study for Eternal Presence, 1972

Being at the museum brought me back to my center, and back to Earth just a little more than I've been recently. So don't forget to fill up your cup, engage with the youth you write for, and find those things that help you reconnect to your why.

Would it Change How You Wrote (Or What You Wrote) If You Knew It Would End Up On The Moon?

This news story, A 30-million page library is heading to the moon to help preserve human civilization, really captured my imagination.

Especially wondering about the whole selection process of which stories would represent humanity.

As creators of creative content for children and teens, we often think of our stories being collected in the personal libraries of our readers, in school classrooms and libraries, in public libraries and even the  home libraries of other adults who love literature for kids and teens, but the idea of a digitized library that represents who we are and who we have been as human beings, designed for future humans (or for other species) to study feels different...

“We want the archive to last longer than the moon itself,” Nova Spivack, co-founder of Arch Mission Foundation said. “If we place enough copies in enough places, some will make it into the distant future, no matter what happens on Earth, the moon, Mars or any other location.”

Which brings us to the headline question: Would it change how you wrote if you knew it would end up being studied in some distant future? Would it change what you're working on?

Every book, TV show, movie, song, story, instagram post, is a time-capsule, of both the era its written about and the era its written in. The Star Trek TV episodes presented a very late 60s vision of the distant future, but the hair styles always reminded us it was a vision envisioned in 1968.

And it's not a unique thought that our books, our stories, are a legacy we leave behind when we're gone.

Maybe the knowledge that your story would end up part of this archive wouldn't change anything. Maybe it shouldn't.

But it is fascinating to consider...

Illustrate and Write On,
Lee