Today I saw the opening of Matisse 's Jazz

We had a bit of a car conundrum—namely, the climate system completely stopped working. No heat, no A/C. Nothing. As a result, I had to make the pilgrimage to the dealership in Chicago. I also had the chance to treat myself to some lovely happenings in the city.

I started the morning at Goddess and the Baker with a Bananas Foster Latte (yes, it was insane as it sounds) and a backlava croissant. This was an excellent choice. I have to go pick up the car tomorrow, and I’m already wondering if I can somehow finagle my way back over there. They have a Turkish Delight latte that also sounds divine. I ended up sitting at a long communal table and reading There is a Rio Grande in Heaven, a March book club pick.

The Matisse exhibit was slightly less curated that I thought it would be? Granted, I loved all the art—I’m obsessed with Matisse and how happy his art makes me feel (the Matisse room at MoMa is my personal heaven), but it felt a little light on the details? I struggle when museums choose to do a gallery wall-style display and then use the “rectangle/square grid with numbers system” to identify them (do you know what I’m talking about). Anyways, Jazz was made when Matisse was ill and he had transferred his artistic work into cut paper and collage. Every time I look at a piece from Jazz, I’m struck by how fun it would be to do that myself. This needs to go on my March 10 list (an idea I snatched from a substack I follow—you make a list of ten incredible things you’d like to do at the top of the month. No pressure to complete them all, but if you get stuck, it can give you some guiding inspiration).

I also ran over to the Bruce Goff exhibition—I wanted to catch it before it closes this month. I knew nothing of this man, but he did the literal coolest…everything. He was an architect. He was an artist (see above). He was groovy. He was over the top. He was my spirit architect, honestly. He was mentored by Frank Lloyd Wright (another favorite of mine), but his designs are as though Frank Lloyd Wright decided to design space habitats while also casually dropping massive amounts of acid. In the best way possible. There were so many renderings that were buildings I wanted to live in—they were purely magical.

Case in point: look at this magic. They actually built that thing! A lot of his concepts went unrealized—I wonder what it would mean/take to build one now? Like, do architectural plans fall under copyright? I need to learn more about this…my wheels are turning.