I Am Speaking, Are You Listening?

On a chilly morning after a sleepless night, I shuffle-walk toward my friend Barbara, a silhouette of herself in the dim morning light. In another week it will be dark at this hour. We exchange murmured good mornings, as if we might disturb someone.

“Which way?” 

I look to my left and right. “Not the hills.” The hills are for mornings after good sleeps with a weekend on the horizon.

Conversation takes time, picking up pace as we get used to the temperature and build our stride. In 50 minutes, sometimes we do not talk much. Other mornings there is not enough time to cover everything. 

I try unsuccessfully to describe the Wangechi Mutu “I Am Speaking, Are You Listening?” exhibit at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco. Words are inadequate to express how her art, the scope of her imagination, utterly captivated me in every way, how she explores the intersections and overlaps of the socio-political, the environment, spirit, beauty, and how on tough days I try to channel the power and grace of her chimerical sculpture Mama Ray. Half Manta ray, half woman, she is regal, stunning, provocative. I tell Barbara I feel like a fish out of water. She says that’s because I am, and then assures me it’s not a bad thing.

Barbara, a mother and physician, is more pragmatic than I. As we watch the sun rising over the Hudson toward the end of our walk, she tells me about an app called Twiage that a friend of hers developed that is revolutionizing the way ambulances communicate with hospitals. I am truly captivated again, in a different way, by this story of innovation and hope, aid for the overtaxed health care field.  

Her young son has the soul of a poet. The recent death of a fish required a card to go on the journey with the dearly departed: “Good Bye Fish. I Miss You Fish.” I say a silent prayer-wish that his heart remains loved and protected, that the flame of compassion is never extinguished. I’m reminded of the disproportionate amount of goodness, love, and healing children beam into the world, effortlessly and unwittingly balancing energies so the rest of us can carry on.

The sun is up. I part ways with my friend, spirit renewed. I will not need to be Mama Ray today. And I am listening.