The old Gods still live.
At the very last moment, a change in events freed me up to go to New York after all-- and I had an absolute blast. It was so wonderful to see John again. I couldn't ask for a better friend. He was a superlative host, especially considering I'm not the easiest guest to have. Even though the visit was so so short (in my opinion), we were able to do a lot of walking-around-the-city, and I have the godawful blisters to prove it. I did some shopping in SoHo, the part of the city I liked most out of what I saw of it. That was Saturday; I'd arrived Friday afternoon. Saturday night, though, I was up all night in some pretty nasty pain and didn't get to sleep until six-am-ish... And though I obviously needed some rest, John let me sleep ALL DAY the next day!!! Until like FIVE PM!!! Ok, maybe, MAYBE I could let something like that slide if I had a week there or something, but on just a three-day trip? Grrr!!!!! I'm not really mad, though, I mean, I know he only had my best interests at heart.
Speaking of, John was just wonderful. He was absolutely the bestest host a gal could ask for. He's mellowed out a great deal, but at his essential core he's really still the same person. The same guy I thought, six years ago, would be my buddy always and no matter what, still is. And I hope I speak for him as well when I say these things... I feel absolutely the most like myself when I'm with him; laugh most naturally and joke most easily. No pressure, no stress. I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable by saying all that semi-mushy stuff, but being there was such a mmmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaajor psychic relief (compared to home) that it much more than bears mentioning.
We went to the Guggenheim on Monday (both of us for the first time) and saw some really crazy, but for the most part really interesting, art by a Chinese guy named Cai. His earlier art, the 'installation' type pieces largely didn't interest me, save for the wolves and the the statuary in the courtyard; both of which, I think, were rendered far more effective by the format of the museum itself than either would have been in any sort of traditional setting; or, from what I could see, in their original settings.
But since he started working pretty much exclusively with gunpowder as his medium, he's certainly found his niche, in my opinion. What he's able to create, both in the actual 'explosion events' and the paper.... 'evidence,' I guess, the smaller-scale 'planning'-type events that leave the marks on the actual paper itself, is not only totally unique, but also... art whose medium is time, whose method is time, whose comment is time.
If all that seems disjointed, it's probably because I wrote it over a bunch of very short periods over a couple of days.
OK I'm winding this up. New York fun. Headaches since getting home bad. Been thinking intensely about my own art projects. Still haven't finished NYC travelogue commentary: had many interesting thoughts during trip, reliving them is only bringing up more tangential considerations, I'm glad I had time up there to at least bullet-point what I wanted to write more on later, or else I would've completely forgotten. Extremely intense dream-life that began in New York has continued. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but... I miss Nate. Stupid stupid stupid.
Speaking of, John was just wonderful. He was absolutely the bestest host a gal could ask for. He's mellowed out a great deal, but at his essential core he's really still the same person. The same guy I thought, six years ago, would be my buddy always and no matter what, still is. And I hope I speak for him as well when I say these things... I feel absolutely the most like myself when I'm with him; laugh most naturally and joke most easily. No pressure, no stress. I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable by saying all that semi-mushy stuff, but being there was such a mmmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaajor psychic relief (compared to home) that it much more than bears mentioning.
We went to the Guggenheim on Monday (both of us for the first time) and saw some really crazy, but for the most part really interesting, art by a Chinese guy named Cai. His earlier art, the 'installation' type pieces largely didn't interest me, save for the wolves and the the statuary in the courtyard; both of which, I think, were rendered far more effective by the format of the museum itself than either would have been in any sort of traditional setting; or, from what I could see, in their original settings.
But since he started working pretty much exclusively with gunpowder as his medium, he's certainly found his niche, in my opinion. What he's able to create, both in the actual 'explosion events' and the paper.... 'evidence,' I guess, the smaller-scale 'planning'-type events that leave the marks on the actual paper itself, is not only totally unique, but also... art whose medium is time, whose method is time, whose comment is time.
If all that seems disjointed, it's probably because I wrote it over a bunch of very short periods over a couple of days.
OK I'm winding this up. New York fun. Headaches since getting home bad. Been thinking intensely about my own art projects. Still haven't finished NYC travelogue commentary: had many interesting thoughts during trip, reliving them is only bringing up more tangential considerations, I'm glad I had time up there to at least bullet-point what I wanted to write more on later, or else I would've completely forgotten. Extremely intense dream-life that began in New York has continued. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but... I miss Nate. Stupid stupid stupid.