Red, rear bumper-lights blinked on and off as drivers accelerated and braked repeatedly in the stop-start, commuter traffic from Long Island into central Manhattan in New York. Long, winding trails of barely-moving cars stretched in front and behind of Hye-won's mid-size family car, which seemed far smaller than almost every other vehicle she could see. Perhaps in recognition of the commuting stress so many New Yorkers experienced daily, the classical music station on the car radio played soothing pieces - a bassoon concerto by Beethoven, several piano nocturnes by Chopin, some liltingly-beautiful soprano arias from operas by Mozart and Puccini - but unusually for her, Hye-won only gave the barest interest to the gorgeous music. She had developed a defence mechanism against the stress of driving in heavy traffic that she found helped her so much. Though aware of the traffic and reacting as needed, she imagined herself back on the pre-dawn beach where she began her day - with a group of women performing beach yoga - some known by name and friendly to her, others dropping in for the first time, but all in search of the same peace that stemmed from occupying their bodies in healthy stretches and balances, while stilling their minds in breathing and focus. As the yoga teacher calmly spoke the directions: 'palms flat on the mat in front of you, ease your body back into a straight plank...feel your strength and breathe as you hold...now step to the front of your mat and stretch your arms high to the sky above you,' Hye-won could feel each pose stretching different parts of her body and building her strength and flexibility. She felt the energy pulse within her and her mind free itself of its tensions.
The 45-minute session always seemed too short but then the meditation to music - the so-called sound-bath - took over for the last 15 minutes and this was equally rewarding. To the succeeding sounds of a selection of instruments - gongs, chimes, rattles - Hye-won and the other women lay on their backs and let the waves of sounds lull them into a relaxed state of well-being. As the peeping sun sent golden streaks of light over the bay, the pippets of the rousing birds joined with the rolling tones of the sound-bath and the lapping waves to welcome the returning day, as the women were bathed in a beautiful wash of light and sound. It was always at this moment that Hye-won felt the cumulative benefits of the physical exertion followed by the musical meditation - a sense of inner release, a broadened awareness of her physical being and her inner self. She relished every detail - the swish of the stems and fronds of the sedge grasses growing along the edges of the bay, the gentle brush of the summer breeze across her face and neck, the murmur of the bay waters, the shifting light as the sun rose inexorably higher - her senses relishing every input. Her soul felt lighter somehow, more in tune with the natural world around her and content with her place in that world. She felt the calm seep deep into her tummy and, not for the first time, she gave thanks for the sense of health and well-being that surged through her now, so unlike the self that she had accepted when - in what seemed like another life-time - she had always felt over-worked and stressed, unable to sleep, or eat, or relax.
The session ended with the communal thanks of everyone joining their hands at their hearts and saying namaste - I bow to you. The mood of calm stillness broke with little comments and laughs among the women and the female teacher - whose sinuous flexibility and strong spirituality Hye-won found both astounding and inspiring - while mats were rolled, drinks taken and thoughts began to shift to the day that lay ahead. Hye-won always took a few minutes to chat with those women with whom she was becoming more friendly as the weeks progressed, some of whom - like her - were carving out this early morning space in their day for themselves - but soon, everyone said their farewells, as they moved away with purpose. Now negotiating the heavy traffic for downtown, imagining herself once again resting her body and spirit in the warming, morning sunlight, she felt somehow insulated from stress. It's like I have a protective barrier - and that's such a gift.
---
By the time she had parked in an underground car-park and begun the short walk to her destination, the morning hustle and bustle of Manhattan's Meatpacking district was well under way. A quick stop-off to buy a cooling, iced latte with oat milk, along the Hudson River Greenway - already busy with cyclists, walkers, bladers, as well as strolling tourists and rushing commuters - and she was also hastening to her meeting, without much thought for the niceties of a sunny, Manhattan morning in July.
Her visitor's pass scanned, she ran her leather tote-bag - which served as a work bag and hand bag combined - through the metal scanners and then proceeded to the staff area of the museum. Such a change from the building I worked in as an intern in Greenwich Village. She recalled again how, in her early days as an intern in the Whitney Museum of American Art - or The Whitney as everyone called it - she had felt the weight of history of this prestigious bastion of American art and culture. Though that had faded slightly with time, she still felt a tinge of that awe, as she moved now from the public gallery to the private work spaces. It was a pleasant feeling to have some of the permanent members of staff greet her by name, as they passed her in the corridor on their busy work days and by the time she tapped on the door of the curator with whom she was now collaborating for the up-coming exhibition, she had completely overcome her awed feelings and felt focused on the business of the meeting.
'Hey there, Hye-won.'
As she stood and walked around her desk towards Hye-won, the gentle smile and greeting of Julie - her mentor from her interning days with whom she was now collaborating - was warming.
'Hey there yourself, Julie.'
Both women shook hands - the US style of greeting beginning to feel more natural to Hye-won now - though when she had first arrived, she had often found herself missing the universal European double or triple cheek kiss. Lifting her own coffee cup, Julie led Hye-won to the low couch on the left-side of the office where they could relax and drink their morning beverages while making a start on work. The exhibition was now just 4 weeks away and the meeting was to finalise the more detailed aspects of installation of the works in the Theodore Roosevelt estate on Long Island - Sagamore Hill - where Hye-won now worked as a part-time curator. The agreement to open the exhibition in the national historic site that had been the family estate of the 26th US president - before moving and expanding it in the spring to the Whitney - had come about, partly through Hye-won's re-connection with Julie in the Whitney but also through the long-standing connection between the two museums with their focus on American art-works. Though a small exhibition by the usual standards of the Whitney, everything was being planned with meticulous care and Hye-won felt very grateful for the support and collaboration she had received from Julie and her team. The logistics of transporting carefully chosen artefacts from all corners of the 50 states of the US and insuring all items for any and every eventuality that such transport could entail were carefully and efficiently planned, the scurries of the world outside forgotten.
---
As the 2 women worked through the checklist of action items, Hye-won gave thanks silently for the whim that had come over her a few months before to visit the Whitney, re-housed in this stunning, 8-story building of sculptural stone and steel. As she had stood outside the building, marvelling at the dramatic, cantilevered entrance from where she could see the Hudson river and park, the imposing, industrial-style building above her, surrounded by a lilting babble of languages from around the globe, she was amazed to hear her name called and see the smiling face of her former mentor as she stood with her 2 companions, not totally sure that this tall, beautiful Korean was indeed her Hye-won from 2 decades before. When Hye-won's breaking smile confirmed that this was indeed the same Hye-won and both women moved instinctually to embrace and then step back laughing, to marvel at the happenstance that had brought them both to the entrance at the same moment, the sense of joy was palpable between them. The intervening years fell away and the warmth of the bond between their younger selves immediately re-asserted itself, as they quickly caught up. Such a lucky moment couldn't be gainsaid and an arrangement to meet in the Studio Bar café on the eighth floor was made. Gorgeous views over the river and city were the back-drop to their longer catch-up on life since Hye-won's younger days, Julie taking a keen interest in Hye-won's further work in art curation, both in Korea but more recently, in Germany. Though initially having had a mentoring relationship, the dynamic had quickly become more of 2 women friends, with similar personalities and interests. It was only a week or so later that Hye-won had received a phone-call from Julie, telling her of the opening for a part-time curatorship in Sagamore Hill - close to where she lived. From the moment Hye-won entered the Theodore Roosevelt estate to meet the full-time curator - to whom Julie had provided a glowing reference - she had loved the sense of history that pervaded the site and it was a complete pleasure, when she was offered the job, to take the opportunity to be part of such an historic site. From there, Hye-won and her former mentor had thoroughly enjoyed their work on the up-coming exhibition and the collaboration seemed to flow naturally.
Even now, the meeting - though lasting for almost 2 hours - seemed shorter and by the time Hye-won and Julie had finalised their plans and said their cordial goodbyes, promising to have additional video-calls in the coming weeks, every important detail of the exhibition had been weighed and considered. As Hye-won retraced her steps to her car - her mind buzzing with the satisfaction of working with someone as genuinely warm and cleverly clear-thinking as Julie - the clear, high, blue sky above seemed to reflect her up-beat mood.
---
Driving back to Nassau County in Long Island, the flow of traffic was mainly inwards towards the city and Hye-won could allow her mind to float freely, as she enjoyed the air-conditioned comfort. Such a lovely meeting with Julie but great to be finished and on my way home again. She flicked the radio station and the mellow sounds of a guitar quietly plucked caught her ear. The repetition of the lyrics - home again - in the husky, female voice - almost exactly as she had thought them herself - drew her in - whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am home again, whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am whole again. With each repeated phrase of the verse - young again...fun again - and the life-long declarations of the song's bridge section - however far away, I will always love you, however long I stay, I will always love you, whatever words I say, I will always love you - Hye-won felt as though the song - one she had a vague memory was a classic from the 80s and had been re-recorded and become a world best-seller again - seemed to tap directly into her feelings. That's the best way to put it - together or apart - it makes no difference to how I feel. The trembling hoarseness in the singer's voice seemed to add an ache to the words, a sense that such confessions might ultimately prove futile. It was so powerful that Hye-won found herself listening intently to the song right through to the end, the perfect opposite of her absent-minded musings that morning. That's how Richter measured what he felt to be great playing - if it made him listen carefully right through. The words far away...long I stay were the hardest to hear and not feel emotional about but she forced the tears from her eyes with a slight shake of the head. You have no time for self-indulgence. She didn't allow herself to think too deeply but the pique of pain that she had felt stayed with her, for the remainder of her journey.