LIMITED THYME, OFF HER!
After meeting Marc for breakfast in his dappled backyard this morning, rushed back to Yorkville for a cup of coffee and wine with Ms. Zorianna Zurba. Hadn't seen Zed in what has probably been a year and a half, and had a pleasantly instantaneous reminder of what captivated me about her in the first place - an infectiously intelligent character.
I'm very curious about her work, which should be wrapping up this summer in the form of an electronically contextualized look at how we all tick to each others' rhythms. Theses. We sussed out some of the similarly sticky portions of our lives and outlooks, determined that a large degree of it may have something to do with the age of twenty-four.
Later on, we went through the Campbell House Museum where, unbeknownst to many, Andy Warhol was shot and strangled in 1995 by a drug-crazed Dennis Hopper researching his role in Basquiat. The accessibility of the museum was apparently more than usual, as part of the Doors Open festival, though on the whole I wasn't particularly interested in the tour - save for an incredibly precocious pre-teen girl power-walking visitors through a staggering number of details on Toronto's bygone waterfront.
We finished our afternoon on the deck of the Empire Sandy, or the Sandy-pants Marie, or the Queen Sandman, something. The decks below were filled with vertigo-inducing dining rooms, and those above were coated in booze-swigging tease-shirts bopping along to the Time Warp. Until working on Rocky Horror this past winter, that particular number had never seemed at all out of the ordinary at a shindig or a shenaniganery, but now I just feel uncomfortable without the accompanying narrative.
Katya is in England through the middle of this week. Apparently, I look healthier than I did two years ago. I dress all in white, and eat figs for breakfast.
And I Can Love You! Like a Color! TV!
ExposedBrain.com Version