The main purpose for this Boston visit, aside from seeing Kira of course, was to gain some inspiration and ideas for a new project. Perusing the beauty at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston is one of the best ways to begin that process. Surrounding oneself with such storied artwork is a form of meditation. It brings a measured sense of calm and serenity, while illuminating the passage of time in peaceful fashion.
We started with the Ansel Adams exhibit, immersing ourselves in the black and white visions of America’s prettiest natural parks, as well as some similar photography that showed off portraits of our country in all its stark, disturbing and heroic beauty. From there, we toured some American art, then some Renaissance work. It was almost lunchtime, but the fancy restaurant there, Bravo, was closed for renovation.
We instead made a quick tour of the gift shop then headed back to the condo for a siesta. The sun was bright but the wind was still biting. I scrolled through the OpenTable availability and reserved us a table at the former location of Tremont 647. Lamenting its closure, the replacement, ‘Whaling in Oklahoma’ sounded promising with its quirky name and Japanese-inflected offerings. Once our table was secured, we settled in for a viewing of a winter classic: ‘Beautiful Girls’. By the time the movie was finished, the sun had gone down and it was time to get ready for dinner.
Those are the moments in life that some people miss, but for me they’re the most important. They ARE life – all those little in-between snippets of down time and waiting, the space before and after the big events and highlights, all the filler that ends up being the substance when you look back at a day.
We bundled up again and hurried to Whaling in Oklahoma, where I began with the Shiso Peach mocktail. I won’t take you through the rest of the meal – for all that cliched culinary chaos you’ll have to peruse my TripAdvisor profile. It was, in a nutshell, a delicious collection of plates, and we left with the promise to return in short order. (They also do brunch, which we’ll give a whirl on my next visit.) The night hadn’t warmed up any while we were enjoying our meal, so we shuffled along in hats and scarves, gloves and hoods, and soon enough entered the warmth of the condo.
At the little dining table in front of the main windows, we sat and held cups of hot mint tea. An early Saturday night, and a far cry from the wilder days of our youth, this was a happy moment. We were older now. We felt less of a need to escape, to push our boundaries outward. It was enough to sit there in the company of a friend, staying warm and cozy on a winter’s night, enjoying the quiet and stillness.
