Frankly, discomfort is part of what I’m curious about for this trip. I’m intentionally visiting parts of the country that I’ve never seen and where I know there are very different priorities from my own when it comes to politics and public health and the inevitable ways those two things have become conflated.

There’s something that’s always intriguing about fog. Especially the kind of fog that takes away your visibility. It could be hiding so many things. It makes the mundane mysterious.

Today I loved the sense of everything lying fallow around me. I’ve come to deeply appreciate my own fallow periods when production and activity and accomplishment all need to stop in order to rest and replenish.

Today I mostly spent on the highway from Massachusetts (state #1) to Connecticut (state #2) to New York (state #3) to Pennsylvania (state #4). Rain plopped down off and on throughout the day, and the spit spray from passing trucks made my windshield so cloudy I ended the day with a stop at Auto Zone to buy new windshield fluid when mine ran low.

I’ve been very interested in how these digital spaces can successfully feel like true communities, even if they’re not made up of people who’ve ever met in an offline space.

One of the more exciting, progressive ideas to enter the museum space in the past decade has been the idea of “museum as platform” — the concept that rather than having to be the sole and final arbiter of all that goes on within its walls, museums could become platforms upon which others create their own cultural and educational experiences.