13.3.2002

At 6 AM I get up. I have been awake off and on for a couple of hours, listening to the city wake up and begin moving. I am nervous – why? I shower, and listen to a mourning dove calling outside my window as I dress. My daughter and I go out to look at the hotel’s courtyard while Germany showers and dresses. To my great surprise and delight, we see two hummingbirds as soon as we step out. I grab my camera and try to get a shot or two. I consider this encounter to be a good omen. We return to the room after taking more photos, and get ready to head out with Germany in search of food.

Before leaving the hotel, we decide to consult the Rune Cards about our pending visit to Track 16. As I shuffle I ask: Will we meet Viggo? We draw Dorn, the rune sacred to the god Thor, which embodies the power of Thor’s sacred weapon, the hammer Mjölnir. (I am wearing my Thor’s Hammer necklace, a gift I received from a friend years earlier, and see this as another good omen.) The meaning for this card reads, in part, “Good fortune, with additional assistance and protection in one’s undertakings. A stroke of unexpected good luck; being at the right place at the right time.” We are encouraged, and leave with light hearts and growling stomachs.

We settle on Starbuck’s for breakfast, which we reach around 10 AM. While I am in line a man behind me begins to make fun of me as I talk. When I look at him he apologizes, saying that my voice reminds him of his mother’s, and he always made fun of her, much to her dismay. I say “Obviously you never learned much of a lesson there.” He laughs and shakes his head, then asks my name. I answer, and he introduces himself as Ronan. “That’s Irish,” he says as I grab my order. “I know,” I say, and walk away.

Later, when we leave, he calls to me again: “Hey, catch you later,” he says with a smile as I walk past. “Yeah, Ronan, catch you later…”

We head for the beach. Years ago, when we lived in Anaheim, I took my daughter to the beach every weekend. She was two years old at the time, and could not go without running for a while in the shallow water that rolled ashore. Nothing has changed – she throws off her shoes when we hit the sand and runs for the ocean. We still have to hold hands, apparently, and I try to hold up the legs of my pants with one hand while the water washes in. Germany watches us with amusement, and with her boots on.

At 11:30 we head back to the hotel, to get ready for our trip to the gallery.

We head out at 12:30, driving up Wilshire Boulevard to look for a drug store along the way.

1:10 – We arrive at Bergamot Station, and look for parking. The buildings in the station look rather unimpressive from the outside, but it’s what’s inside that counts… I am very excited, and strangely nervous. We walk into Track 16 and ask for Pilar Perez at the front desk, thinking that it would be nice to meet her. She comes out to greet us a few minutes later. She is a very kind and gracious woman, welcoming us to the gallery and saying that she hoped our trip was a safe one (we had to mention, of course, how far we had traveled). She mentions at that time that Viggo is in the gallery, and that she will ask him about the possibility of meeting with us. We are astonished and thrilled as she leaves us to look at the exhibit while she speaks with Viggo.

I experience what I had hoped to experience by coming. The detail, texture and scale of Viggo’s works are only apparent by actually seeing them. Elendil is smaller than I expected it to be. Helm’s Deep, one of my favorite photos, is much larger than I thought, and very striking. Germany takes a long look at 7 November, a photograph which had grabbed her attention more than a month earlier, and we talk again about whether the animal is indeed a deer. I look at the Lost… series, which I had considered purchasing before I decided to go to Santa Monica instead. I mention this to Germany, who confides to me that she is considering selling her Volvo to buy 7 November, because of its sentimental value to her now. We laugh and walk on. Two other works, Kormak and Kormak in New York, catch my eye, and I spend a long time in front of both.