As I began to get more rested, I began to wake up earlier, and get out and explore New York City. I soon became aware that among other things, New York was a city of amazing museums. I grew up in San Mateo, California. Once I got my driver’s license, I made many trips into San Francico – only about 20 miles from San Mateo. San Francisco has some fine museums but I quickly discovered nothing on the scale of New York museums: the Whitney Museum of American Art, the Museum of Modern Art or MOMA, the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the American Museum of Natural History, to name the museums that most interested me.

I started with the Whitney Museum of American Art. It was the smallest of the group and I liked the museum’s architecture. I had never seen or heard of most of these artists. But some stood out for me. The first was a painting by George Bellows of a Jack Dempsey prize fight. It was dynamic and the fighters were in good shape.

The next painter who caught my eye was Thomas Eakins. His subject matter was physical also but much quieter, more serene – 2 men rowing on a river. Another of Eakins’ paintings appealed to me a lot: a solitary oarsman – sort of a timeless moment of a self-disciplined athlete keeping himself in shape in a beautiful natural setting.

In contrast was Winslow Homer’s painting “Gulf Stream” which I had seen before in stark contrast to Eakins’ quiet contemplative painting. Homer’s painting resonates then and now: chaotic, tense and dangerous, a man in a precarious, unpredictable position.

The next painting that grabbed me was George Tooker’s “The Subway.” The woman looks fear-based and anxious. Her world seems filled with different kinds of threats and dangers, physical or imagined than Homer’s “Gulf Stream.” Are her fears all in her head?

But of all the paintings I saw at the Whitney that afternoon, the painter who made the most powerful impression on me was Edward Hopper. The first paining was an alienated, disconnected couple – together but not together at all. In 21st century terms, it is like a couple out on a date, not talking to each other, each in isolated focus on their own smart phones. The next Hopper painting “Night Hawks” deepened that theme of isolation and alienation.

The next Hopper painting, “Gas,” is a great example of visual story telling: a solitary man on a lonely road going about his work on his own. Such a powerful image.

Being a huge movie lover, Hopper’s next painting “New York Movie” so resonated with me. In a darkened movie house, each person or couple in their own world, and the usherette isolated, by herself, not participating in the group experience of the movie that is playing on the screen.

The last Hopper painting at the Whitney “Morning Sun” really nailed it. It reminded me of Thoreau and his observation that most people live lives of quiet desperation. Most of the paintings I have shared are realist paintings. And Edward Hopper seems like the supreme realist telling it like it is. People living isolated, disconnected, alienated lives.  In the 21st century loneliness was become such a dominant theme and huge problem for a majority of people. So many “friends,” yet so empty and alone. Edward Hopper seems as appropriate today as he was the first half of the 20th century. It reminds me of that saying:  the more things change, the more they remain the same.

I left the Whitney Museum of American Art on Madison Avenue in a pensive mood. As I slowly began to walk south back toward my hotel near Times Square, I realized there is so much more to life. These artists and paintings I had just experienced stimulated my awareness. Again, I wanted to know more, to learn more. Who were these people who could create such powerful experiences. As I walked, I felt like a different person. I had been changed in a way or ways I had no words for. It was like I had just emerged from a rain storm. I was dripping wet with new enlightening visual and emotional experiences.

These places called art museums were powerful life-changing experiences. It was ironic. Here I was weaving my way through throngs of people and yet I was alone with my own thoughts and feelings kind of like an Edward Hopper painting. The mass of humanity swarming around me had no idea what I was thinking or feeling or even cared to know. They were each cocooned in their own worlds. And yet some of them if they walked through the Whitney and saw Edward Hopper paintings might pick up on the feelings of disconnectedness, isolation, alienation and loneliness communicated by Hopper’s stark realism.

Once again I felt a deep sense of gratitude that I had taken this trip, that I was in a position in my life that I could take such a trip and have such experiences. I was grateful I had the courage to venture out into this huge world alone and open myself to experiences like Edward Hopper, his paintings and places like the Whitney Museum of American Art.

As I lifted my head and blinked, I was in the massive stimulus overload of multi-story flashing, constantly changing, multi-color neon signs of Times Square. What a stark contrast to moving quietly through rooms of iconic American paintings with a few other people in a serene, safe and gentle environment.

It's all part of life, my life anyway I thought as I entered the deli and got in line to order my sandwiches. Maybe I’ll order something different this time, I thought. Live a little. Nudge the edge of my envelope a little. Life is to be lived.

What a day! I felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

We are so fortunate to be able to enjoy incredibly nutritious JDD shakes and first-class supplementation to feel and be fully, vitally alive. And thank you for the privilege of letting me share the gift of a truly healthy, expansive life.