Museums are great for grieving
My mom died on a Wednesday afternoon which meant I didn’t have to go to work the next day.
That morning I woke up desperate to not be home but I had no idea where I could go. I was still getting used to living in a new city, I was totally broke, and I hadn’t made any friends yet. I also dreaded the thought of sitting anywhere outside. I couldn’t tell you why; I usually love being outdoors.
I sat in my reading chair and realized I wanted to keep doing what I was doing, just not at home. I wanted to sit and stare and occasionally stand and stare, and not have to talk or think.
I aimlessly googled cheap things to do in the Bay Area and lo and behold, the first Thursday of the month is free admission at the SFMOMA. I immediately knew it would be perfect. What better place to sit, stand, pace, and stare for hours on end and no one will look twice at you and wonder what the hell you're doing.
I think it'd be funny to write a moody, deep take on how I stared at contemporary artwork (with a snarky comment about it ‘just being a household object mounted on some other household object’) and wondered if other people were grieving alongside me, or if we were all using art to help us process a collective trauma. There’d have to be a twist of some sort, or lesson learned, but I’m honestly too hungover for that today. Plus I should learn more about art theory before I make cheeky comments about periods I don’t understand.
The point is, if you need to grieve because your livelihood, family, and human rights are under attack right now, or because of whatever else you have going on, I highly suggest doing it at a museum.