Thirty-one, actually. We went looking for thirty-one men from 34th Street and 5th Avenue down to Union Square. Pleased to say, we were successful.
A remarkable woman I know had suggested that we go find every single Gormley statue and like a treasure hunt we did. We had great fun, persisted when one proved difficult to spot, and over a few warm afternoon hours made our way with a map in hand to identify them.
They are all bronze cast statues of him which made us vaguely familiar with the shape of his body. A little girl, hardly more than four, seemed particularly enthralled by his behind much to her father's embarrassment. He had circular stumps which my companion wished Gormley had found a way to remove and I, apparently mistakenly, believed were a part of the casting process.
No one else seemed interested in doing this which made us wonder if the installation is being appreciated. In truth, I can understand that searching for them on my own might have been much less amusing. My companion was as compulsive as I am and we both agreed that nothing would deter us from seeing each and every one. We wound through the park, across to Lexington, over to Broadway, stopped for water at the Shake Shack. There were moments when our persistence was difficult to maintain. We tried to convince each other that a window ledge was the corner of a head, or that a small water tower was one of the statues with a cape. Fortunately, we continued and proudly checked off each one on our map. The friend we met for one which naturally became two margaritas was pleased to have missed this excursion. Deep into the second sweet, lime tequila beverage, he admitted that he would not have wished to walk through the afternoon heat in order to see every single one.
The proper companion for this sort of activity is important. At a recent studio tour, I saw several unwilling companions walking through the art merely on behalf of their partner. They clearly had neither the interest nor desire to be looking at the works on display. They were merely there in order to be with their partner and even that seemed reluctant. I have to ask whether finding a man (or a woman) is really worth feigning interest in an activity? Why do people feel that they must become tied at the hip and never separated? If they are going to spend a lifetime together will it not eventually be revealed that they do not favor the same activities or pastimes? I find it more interesting to learn later what someone did and how much they enjoyed it, knowing full well that it sounds wonderful only because I did not do it because it would have irritated, bored, frustrated me endlessly. It seems to me like finding a (wo)man should not involve pretending to enjoy an art tour. But I see full well that occasionally there is nothing but pretending to be someone you are not to convince someone who may be doing the same that you want to spend your lives together.
Nothing, not even art, not even a fun quest for 31 naked bronze statues is worth a lifetime with the wrong person.
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