Nicole Wilson and I ended up with our feet in the fountain at the National Gallery’s sculpture garden.
There were kids everywhere. Nicole hid under a floppy hat with a rainbow band; she hid behind shades. She applied lotion; I finished her back.
It felt so complete to be there. To be sitting there together while looking around the rim, seeing all the tourists with their feet in the fountain. There was a sign that said “No Wading” and there was no sign that this fountain had been an ice rink 6-months previous.
The sun felt good; the water cooled my body. Nicole has cute toes, but so do I. I had worn silly Rossi boots without socks and Nicole teased me about it.
I didn’t want to go anywhere else.
People took photographs around us. I took a group shot for a family. They had a cheap camera, which is reassuring in the world of the digicam.
After my body was again charged with sun, I suggested that we mosey on to the Hirshorn. I had remembered that there was a show on Street Photography that I wanted to see.
For the next 10-minutes, I turned around, allowing the air to dry my toes. I donned my boots and we shoved off towards one of my favorite galleries in Washington.
(End of Part II)
Posted Aug 14, 2002 – 08:56 AM
