May 3, 2014 (iPhone 5s)
I was tempted to buy this piece of chocolate but had no one to give it to but myself.
After the first 2,5 rooms, I stopped reading all the summaries and only looked at the artifacts. It still became a little depressing. After 30 years, one lady’s husband told her “I never loved you” and left. She never understood what happened. “I don’t understand what happened.” Her artifact was this small, old, worn stuffed toy of snoopy. He could have had the decency to explain, but to realize at the end of your life it was all a lie. But at least she got to spend 30 years with someone SHE loved. Another woman’s artifact was a joint checkbook, which she saw as signifying their financial togetherness through the purchase of a house and children and then their financial separation with divorce and her subsequent years of psychotherapy. There was only one story of an unbroken relationship in this museum. The first story I read. The artifact was of a life size toy car, one the person telling the story always wanted as a child. His wife finally found him one. He concluded that when you love someone you want to make all their dreams come true. In the end, their happiest moment becomes your happiest moment, their saddest your saddest.
July 2013 (iPad photos) When we saw the most popular beach in Split, Bačvice beach, we were stunned at its proletariat feel. After walking past the bus station, the ferry port and train tracks, we found the beach. We were two Asian girls peeking over the shrubbery at this view. My friend who lives in NYC said, “This reminds me of Coney Island.” I said, “This looks just like an utopian Communist beach. This could be Berlin.” An everyman’s beach. You can’t see it in the photo but off in the distance we could see these dirty white, almost grey canopies flapping in the wind. There were people everywhere along the boardwalk. The people in the water were playing this popular game invented in Split called Picigin, a game in which you keep a small ball from hitting the water for as long as possible. We had become beach snobs, having spent the last two days at this beach bar, Hula Hula in Hvar. We turned around and walked back to the city.