Bagel. Cream Cheese. Strawberry Jam. My morning is complete. Priceless.
This morning I woke up to my favorite caretaker, Katrina, yelling at Marie. It was delightful! Ron and I had breakfast, and we chatted with Marie some about the organization Act Up. Apparently Marie loved the organization, and at one point danced in the street with them. She's so dear. Today, when I got home, she and I sat down and talked for a good while. Her memory is so sharp and her descriptions so vivid. I felt as if I was actually chillin' with Pete Seeger. Amazing.
MoMA was spectacular! I've decided Modern Art isn't for me, but I do appreciate early interpretations like Picasso, Van Gough, Cezanne, Seurat, and Matisse. For instance, Van Gough's Stary Night. When you see pieces like this, it's almost unreal. You're standing and thinking to yourself, "This is what it's all about; this is where art comes from today!" To me, it's interesting because when you see what inspires so many artists today, it seems to clarify more modern art, -- and give it some sort of context for existing!
Afterward, I got lost.
Eventually, I found myself on Crosby Street walking towards an amazing book store reminiscent of an old library and McKay. I ate my first Knish (a pastry with potato filling). I really liked the texture, but mine tasted like sweet potato so it was disgusting. I'll try one from a vendor.
I found my way away from Cafe Bookstore and back onto Christopher Street Pier. Unlike yesterday, there were tons of people sun-bathing in the grass. When I say people, I really mean mostly 30-40 year old gay men in speedos. I went to the end of the pier, away from the grass, and read my book: Nice Big American Baby by Judy Budnitz. It's 12 short stories written in the same kind of style as Proust, Sedaris, and Levithan. I appreciate it immensely, and found myself nearly crying after the first story.
Finally, on my way home, I became alarmingly aware of how cold and distant I must be coming off. In this fit of self-revelation, I've resolved to be myself, but understand when I might be putting said self into a vulnerable situation. For instance, I was about to engage this man by giving him some change on the subway, but he started yelling to the entire car about his mental insanity and how he needed money for clothes. No thanks.
Tomorrow, Marie and I are attending a reading of the Constitution in Central Park. From there I will go and spend the day in Brooklyn with Brooke Pridemore! I'm so lucky.
Wish me luck!
CONRAD'S MUST-DO'S:
** BUY NICE BIG AMERICAN BABY AND READ IT ON THE PIER IN THE SUN AND BREEZE.
** BUY 3$ MEXICAN LUCHA WRESTLING MASKS WRAPPING PAPER.
** LISTEN TO THE BLOW.
CONRAD'S MUST-NOT'S:
** LOOK LIKE A TOURIST.
** LOOK LIKE A NEW YORKER.
** PASS UP VENDOR FOOD.
Don't write off Damien Hirst, yet, Conrad!!! Or Anselm Keifer. Or Kiki Smith.
ReplyDeleteHirst is challenging, modern, in-your-face, conceptual and not pretty BUT it is profound.
Kiki Smith is figurative, but strange. Based on fairy tales or myths. One famous sculpture is of a woman being born from a wolf.
And Kiefer is changing all the time. His best works are expressive abstraction. He uses natural elements like grass or hay and builds it into the layers of paint on the canvas.
You are in the perfect place (DC) and will be (NY) to see some great art.
Also, I'm glad to hear you're taking the time (somehow) to read and to read things that are in the line of Proust.
ReplyDeleteWhen your life slows just a bit, put a copy of 'Swann's Way" by Proust into your back pocket and read it a page at a time here and there. (that's how I finally did it). He was such a strange bird, always sick and anxious and uncomfortable with his sexuality. But he wrote arguably the best book ever. I'm still working on it and will be until I die, I guess. But there are so many ideas in "In Search of Lost Time".
There is a famous story where Joyce (who was sure he was better than everyone else) met Proust (the one person he was intimidated by).
It didn't go well. Proust was annoyed because Joyce smoked. Joyce wanted to be invited back to Proust's home and Proust that that idea absurd.
Conrad, there are so many great books, art, stories and real life ahead of you. I'm glad you're grabbing it all.