King Kong and serendipity
Lovely day today. I took today off from work, a last gift to myself for 2005. Watched a couple of episodes of Buffy on DVD (thanks again, herself_nyc!), hit the gym, and then headed out to meet exiledfromtribe to catch King Kong.
Really enjoyed the film. I expect to post about it at more length another time (since it's rather late and I'm sleepy), but the short version is: Andy Serkis is extraordinary (somebody needs to give this guy a special achievement Oscar); Naomi Watts is quite ornamental though I don't usually prefer blondes; Adrien Brody is probably incapable of giving a bad performance; and Jack Black wasn't quite as wooden as I expected him to be. He was, however, in my opinion, the weakest link. The look and feel of the film is marvelous. I loved the Central Park sequence.
After the film, I hit Pagliacci for a couple of slices of pizza, then stopped in at Twice Sold Tales to peruse the stacks. As I was leaving, who should walk in but Jerry M, whom I know through writersweekend, and who promptly invited me to join him and a friend of his to attend an artist's salon just a few blocks away. Having no other plans for the evening, I tagged along.
We walked about 8 blocks in a torrential downpour to a house up on 15th to attend something called The Marble Factory, which is apparently an artist's salon started in the 1960s. The word is it has been attended not only by artists but writers, philosophers, professors, and even a Nobel Prize winner. Well, that may have been true in the 60s. With perhaps three or four exceptions, most of the people I met tonight probably weren't older than 26 or 27, and with perhaps one or two exceptions, none of them particularly impressed me with their brains. Still, I enjoyed talking with everyone I met. I got to page through several people's portfolios and saw a wide range of work, from the pedestrian (graphite drawings of goth angels seemed to be an especially popular subject) to the quite extraordinary (the host's own workalmost psychedelic paintings of faces and clowns and figures flying through candy-colored spaces). I was glad for the opportunity to attend. Got to spend a little time with Jerry, which is always pleasant, and got to extend myself beyond my usual circle, which I think is vital for me right now. All in all, a good night.
I'm beat, though, at this point, and really must hit the sack. Tomorrow promises to be just as busy in a whole other way, and I need to rest up.
Really enjoyed the film. I expect to post about it at more length another time (since it's rather late and I'm sleepy), but the short version is: Andy Serkis is extraordinary (somebody needs to give this guy a special achievement Oscar); Naomi Watts is quite ornamental though I don't usually prefer blondes; Adrien Brody is probably incapable of giving a bad performance; and Jack Black wasn't quite as wooden as I expected him to be. He was, however, in my opinion, the weakest link. The look and feel of the film is marvelous. I loved the Central Park sequence.
After the film, I hit Pagliacci for a couple of slices of pizza, then stopped in at Twice Sold Tales to peruse the stacks. As I was leaving, who should walk in but Jerry M, whom I know through writersweekend, and who promptly invited me to join him and a friend of his to attend an artist's salon just a few blocks away. Having no other plans for the evening, I tagged along.
We walked about 8 blocks in a torrential downpour to a house up on 15th to attend something called The Marble Factory, which is apparently an artist's salon started in the 1960s. The word is it has been attended not only by artists but writers, philosophers, professors, and even a Nobel Prize winner. Well, that may have been true in the 60s. With perhaps three or four exceptions, most of the people I met tonight probably weren't older than 26 or 27, and with perhaps one or two exceptions, none of them particularly impressed me with their brains. Still, I enjoyed talking with everyone I met. I got to page through several people's portfolios and saw a wide range of work, from the pedestrian (graphite drawings of goth angels seemed to be an especially popular subject) to the quite extraordinary (the host's own workalmost psychedelic paintings of faces and clowns and figures flying through candy-colored spaces). I was glad for the opportunity to attend. Got to spend a little time with Jerry, which is always pleasant, and got to extend myself beyond my usual circle, which I think is vital for me right now. All in all, a good night.
I'm beat, though, at this point, and really must hit the sack. Tomorrow promises to be just as busy in a whole other way, and I need to rest up.