Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Bullet Points, a Picture of a Flower, and a Gaggle of Parentheses

I just returned from a whirlind trip to NYC (of course) to pick up artwork ("pieces", Travis) for the next exhibit at VACR. The exhibit is called Garden and I'll post about it as the Sept 7 opening nears.

Here's what I've been thinking about:

  • Being in NYC is kind of like being in the checkout line at Kroger (grocery store) - there is no surface on which to rest your eyes that is not employed as a space for selling you something. I buried my sizeable nose into Wendell Berry's Life is a Miracle for refuge and enjoyed my stay at the Leo House even though the requisite crucifix was missing (in fact, the room was very much "of the earth"- a country scene w/ a cottage and a shower curtain adorned with butterflies).
  • Speaking of butterflies, Nancy mentioned during dinner that the Corpse Flower at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden has bloomed. I'm sorry I missed it. The flower gets its name from its scent, and it only blooms once every 10 years.
This cut-away shows the female flowers that are inside the body of the flower.
  • I like driving through midtown Manhattan an awful lot and will take it over driving the BQE or I-95 any day.
  • I cannot stand Williamsburg (Brooklyn)- there is a bathtub ring of anxious tags made by suburban ex-pats throughout the entire city. Fortunately there are no trees as the "hipsters" would have covered them as well. I think I'm on the side of the Hasids...






  • People who work in toll booths deserve our respect, smiles and kind words.
  • I'm going to buy a New Jersey Turnpike T-shirt regardless of whether irony died on Sept 11, 2001 or not.

3 comments:

George said...

Michael, your current thought train may follow a linear track, but man does it twist and turn. I had to make sure I slowed down a bit, I was getting a bit quesy.

zs said...

I am with you on Williamsburg, my man.

langdang said...

Dear Blogger with digital camera,
In my hood, there's a funny little Italian bakery up the street with lots of old folks and crucifixes and unbeatable cannoli. The one-legged man who lives across the street always makes sure the guy washing cars doesn't spray my feet when I walk by. The owner of the Thai place up the street brings me fresh jasmine from the garden when I have dinner there. My cashier at the market has a five-year-old son who's about to attend his first day of kindergarten. Mix in a good cup of coffee and a 10 minute walk to the river complete with unobstructed view of the greatest city in the world, and the WB ain't so bad.