A very wise man I know taught me the acronym FOMO—Fear Of Missing Out. As an art historian who researches West Coast art and lives on the East Coast, this is my autumn of FOMO. Google alerts and various e-newsletters daily remind me that dozens of “Pacific Standard Time” exhibitions—some of them reportedly wonderful, others just okay—are currently on view in Southern California. The cynic in me (I am a New Yorker, after all) takes comfort in the odd bad review—perhaps I’m not missing that much after all, and there are always the catalogues. But the realist in me knows that it’s dreadful to be so far away from so much bounty and plots my return to that sunny place on a calendar marked with closing dates. (Note that I didn’t equate cynicism with realism—there’s hope for me yet.)
Saturday, November 12, 2011
The PST Blues
A very wise man I know taught me the acronym FOMO—Fear Of Missing Out. As an art historian who researches West Coast art and lives on the East Coast, this is my autumn of FOMO. Google alerts and various e-newsletters daily remind me that dozens of “Pacific Standard Time” exhibitions—some of them reportedly wonderful, others just okay—are currently on view in Southern California. The cynic in me (I am a New Yorker, after all) takes comfort in the odd bad review—perhaps I’m not missing that much after all, and there are always the catalogues. But the realist in me knows that it’s dreadful to be so far away from so much bounty and plots my return to that sunny place on a calendar marked with closing dates. (Note that I didn’t equate cynicism with realism—there’s hope for me yet.)
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