Retired from work, starting Act II

I went to see Bruce Nauman’s exhibit of Days (I think that’s the title) at the Museum of Modern Art last week. For those of you that haven’t seen it, I will try briefly to describe what it is. In a separate gallery, there are 10 or maybe more thin rectangular white membranes suspended from the ceiling by two wires and anchored from the floor with two wires (all 4 wires eminate from the corners of these rectangles). The rectangles are in fact speakers. These speakers are suspended in two even rows capped off by two speakers at either end. In the middle of this formed rectangle are bar stools evenly spaced. Coming from the speakers are individual voices (one for each speaker) of different ages, sexes and I will assume ethnicity, although they are all speaking English. The voices are randomly saying the days of the week, and not in sequential order. When you sit on the stools you can hear the speakers in a sort of surround sound way, the voices tripping over each other, saying days. I was moved to laughter and joy when hearing these days. Why? I am no longer bound by days, hours, minutes and bells. These are mere words and contrivances to me now, and it fills me with great joy to know I can move about my day under my own terms.

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