Cut to the New Mexico state line where my eyes are flicking from the road to the odometer as I watch CJ approach her 45,000 mile birthday, my attention so focused that I almost miss the notification on the center console: "Time Zone Updated to Mountain Time."
I forgot the time zone change. I will be an hour early. Instead of facepalming, I feel a thrill. I'll find a coffee spot and blog out the wonders of yesterday. Kat pointed me to a place just beside our lunch spot and so I find myself sitting at Epiphany Espresso, sipping a Lobo Latte in a renovated shipping container.
The road provides. Now, back to yesterday!
I moved slowly Thursday morning, feeling my night in Joplin and especially my beer suicide. I took the time to do morning pages and blog, then set out on the road at almost 10:30am, a very late start for me. I had complicated the day's itinerary by planning to skirt into Kansas and Arkansas, crossing those states off my list instead of heading straight into Oklahoma.
Kansas was simple. Turning west onto I-44, I went about 10 minutes and turned onto 400. After less than a mile, I had passed the state line and quickly U-turned back to the highway.
Arkansas, however, proved trickier. I was prepared to drive 45 minutes or so south to hit the state line, but my new Joplin friends had recommended going just a little further to the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art. While I love a museum, I struggled with the idea of a sight-seeing stop in the middle of a day's drive (arguably the beginning given that I would have made NO progress westward yet). As I turned south towards Arkansas, I decided to make it a game time decision.
It turned out pretty much how one might guess. After making it to the state line, I was 15 minutes from the museum. From googling it, I knew the architecture was striking, so I thought there'd be no harm in a drive-by. I pulled off the highway, followed signs, and successfully pulled down the driveway. When the museum came into view, I knew I was staying.
After parking, I made my way to the main entrance, stopping to appreciate the view along the way.
I walked up to what I thought was the ticket counter, only to be told that admission was free. That was only the first shock.
Receptionist: "So here's your ticket. And would you like to tour our Frank Lloyd Wright house?"
Ian: "I'm sorry?"
R: "There's a Frank Lloyd Wright house on the property. I can get you in for a self-guided tour right now if you're interested."
I: "Wh...but...yes, yes, definitely."
I felt so overwhelmed, staggered at the prospect of a beautiful American Art collection AND a Wright house that I would have COMPLETELY MISSED had I not gone out to trivia in Joplin alone. I could feel the miles between where I stood and where I would have been if I had turned back at the state line. Meanwhile, the architecture of the museum loomed all around me.
The Wright house didn't disappoint, either. Since they didn't allow pictures inside, I just strolled around the two-story great room, staring out the floor to ceiling windows and the trees beyond. The difference between the blocked-off public side of the house and the nature-intwined private side was particularly striking.
After the Wright house, I walked the nearby grounds, enjoying the outdoor sculptures and the views back to the museum.
As for the artwork in the collection, I don't have the words, except to say it was one of the most well-curated collections I have ever seen. Knowing I didn't have the time I wanted to take with each piece, I concentrated on textures and snapped a picture of almost everything so that I can revisit it on my own time. I'll pick a few to show here, but I plan to put the rest in a Facebook album. Highlights included: Hamilton Portrait, Peale and Stuart portraits of Washington which resonated as I read his biography, a bajillion American landscapes, a sculpture called Free, Calder mobiles, and some favorite artists from the Brandywine museum back in PA.
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| While the initial impression I had was of a man bound, I crossed behind it to find one hand clasping the other wrist. Such a brilliant experience of my own perceptions. |
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| This was one statue...excellent placement |
One docent commented upon my smile as I walked the galleries and I explained the randomness of my being there and my slight sadness that I had to move on so quickly. Indeed, in a flash, I had reached the end of the exhibits and had to make my way out. I will flip through my pictures to try and recreate the experience of fascination, but I think I may just have to make my way back to Bentonville, AR someday.
Enriching the soul impoverished the body and mind, however, and I left the museum parking lot groaning at the seven hours between me and Amarillo, TX. Quiet backroads took me from Bentonville into Oklahoma, where I was welcomed by a half-dozen tolls both before and on I-44. Though I never really regained a second wind of road trip enthusiasm, the sunset over the broad flat fields of Oklahoma did my thinking for me, with a healthy dose of The Album Leaf and The Decembrists in the background.
Once the sun set, I still had a few hours to go, so I dialed up Savage Love podcasts, which contrasted well with the pitch-black Oklahoma and Texas nights. Finally, I pulled into Amarillo, checked into my hotel, and came to an exhausted stop in my room.
Thankfully, I got a good night's sleep last night and now, with the bonus hour, I feel like I'm no longer paying the price for my deeply satisfying detour to Crystal Bridges.
The road provides.
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