Inextricably bound to its seaside perch, Boston has always carried hints of the sea in its air. Some days this is more pronounced than others, and on those days I thrill at the proximity to salt water, and the way the ocean laps at its doorstep. As my birthday dawned, we made our way to the Seaport, where we planned on visiting the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) for the first time. Suzie and her family had gone there a few weeks ago and recommended the journey. I was seeking something new for this low-key birthday year, and a museum with a water taxi to part of its exhibitions was perfect.
Andy snickered at this Louis Vuitton bag chained to the ground – a metaphor of fashion enslavement, or ‘the story of your life’ in his words. We wandered through the ICA and then made a super-quick run through its gift shop before making our way to the ship that would bring us across the harbor to the Watershed. Envisioning a Titanic-like expedition, I was surprised to see that they could accommodate 16 people at the most or something like that, and this little water-taxi would not have room for me to leisurely stroll about the deck, mostly because there wasn’t even a deck. No matter – I thrilled at the trip across the water since we never get to sail in any way, shape or form.
When we reached the Watershed, it felt like we were years removed from Boston, from the present moment, and from above the water. In some Atlantis-like fantasy, the Watershed exhibition was a respite from the sun, and the present world – and precisely what I wanted for my birthday.
There was magic in the cool and hushed walls, where artist Firelei Báez had conjured this spectacular exhibit. Andy and I slowly took our time walking through the tilted pillars and painstakingly-crafted ruins, where hours of meticulous artwork revealed themselves slowly, layer by layer, and away from the rest of the world, it felt like this space of sanctity was all we needed for that moment.
After the tour of the Watershed, we waited for the water-taxi to return in the tree-shaded beauty of a little park that looked out over the water. It brought us back to a lunch in the Seaport, and then we hopped on a ride back to the condo. While Andy took his siesta, I ventured out on my own – the traditional moment of solitude on a birthday that somehow appears every year.
I indulged in some shopping – even though Saks was out of my chosen cologne (losing out on an actual sale to Bergdorf Goodman who would deliver it just as quickly, and on a beauty sale).
Then it was time to dress for dinner at Mooo. A fancy birthday meal was about to ensue and close out our too-few days in Boston. It was amazing – from the delicate mocktail seen first, all the way through the ricotta cheesecake that Andy had (and promised to recreate for us at a date that will hopefully arrive shortly).
All in all, it was a delightfully quiet birthday spent with my favorite person in my favorite city, and in this day and age that’s going down as an accomplishment.
Until we find ourselves back in Boston…
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