Okay, here's how I'll do it. Today I'll show you all of the beautiful houses of Mexico... then starting tomorrow I'll tell you about actual stuff we did while there.
One thing I adored about Mexico City was the decoration of homes. People were not afraid to use bright and bold colors on their walls.
This was outside Frida Kahlo's house (more on that later).
Another thing I loved was the architecture. It was fascinating to see the co-existence of very very old, nearly decrepeit buildings against the modern structures and freeways.
More tomorrow. Here's a picture of me in a museum ladies' room.
Well, I have 268 photos to show you, and that's not even the full amount that I took in Mexico. I'll do it in chunks. First we'll get a bit of exposition and show the glorious house where Dustin grew up. I forgot to take a picture of the front area. Let's jump into the house.
They have millions of awesome masks all over the place.
Here's the beautiful family room where we all watched a thousand games of soccer.
... which is right next to the dining area, beautifully decorated by a mural painted by D.'s grandmother.
The foyer:
The beautiful living room filled with tons of art of various sorts:
This cool 2-sided doorway:
... which leads to the other dining room:
Another cool door: ... that leads to the veranda: ... complete with a bar: ... which leads to the pool: and the backyard: Back inside is their sweet doggie:
They have lovely bedrooms:
with great views:
and rad furniture: This is Caitlin (Dustin's sister)'s room, which she generously donated to us for the visit:
The kids' bathroom had the coolest tiled bathtub, painted by Dustin's dad:
... with Adam:
And Eve: And me! The place is packed with great art. I'm only gonna show you a bit of it:
And let us not forget the portrait of Dustin's grandfather, painted by Diego Rivera.
I saw this pair of oldies staring at/discussing this nude statue on East 77th Street. They hung around for quite awhile.
At Barnes & Noble last night, this magazine collection struck me as odd... and then hilarious.
And Mitch mussed up my hair, thus transforming me into a 1980s tough chick.
Onto the narrative, sporadic may it be. Last Thursday night, the boys (and the producers and the junior editors) got all gussied up for the AICP Awards at the MoMA. I only got one pic.
Sunday, the girls, Dustin and I met up at Madison Square Park for the Annual Blues and Barbecue Block Party, which sounds just the way it is: blues & bluegrass artists get together and play in the park, while the outskirts are flanked by a dozen or so barbecue stands from various vendors from the city. We (and a thousand of our friends) sat on the grass, ate barbecue, and played Phase 10 (disregarding the rules).
And finally, what the heck is going on?? It's matchy-matchy week at P.S.
Monday:
Tuesday:
Wednesday: Strange. Well, I love me that synchronicity and must capture it when I can. I'm still kicking myself for letting the photographic opportunity of yellow day pass me by. Now THAT woulda been a picture.
Off to Mexico. Love you all! Take care of America while I'm gone.
Oh, the lastingly astounding beauty of the orchid. Beside the tulip, my favorite flower. Elaborate, graceful, intricate. The ultimate of nature's design, trumping even the female form.
And now for some close-ups, highlighting the velvety texture of their bold colors.
It's been, to say the least, rainy in New York lately. The very definition of "torrential downpour." I left my house on Saturday only for a bagel and the laundry of my bedsheets. I spent the rest of the day "researching" the music of The Presets and Of Montreal, and working on my long-neglected novel. Sunday it lightened up, and as I walked to the subway I saw the remnants of some kind of Jewish parade. At the exact moment that I snapped this picture, I overheard this old lady saying in a thick Long Island accent, "Cawl me crazy, but when I think of Manischewitz, I don't think of some big cake. I think of Matzo."
After seeing "La Mustache" with Nicole at the IFC Center, I met up with the girls at Terra Blues for some much-needed Junior Mack. He's our favorite blues singer in New York. He has a standing Sunday Night gig at Terra Blues, a "tradition" that Kerri and I have fulfilled exactly twice. But he's reliably good. He had an Ecuadorian harmonica player up on the stage a couple of times. Mauricio was just passing through NYC en route to the Chicago Blues Festival.
Terra Blues is home to one of my favorite ladies' rooms in the city. The hallway leading to it is covered in collages, and the ladies' room itself has collages of Mae West that I just love. I think the men's room has the Marx Brothers. Here are some of the collages outside in the hall: Requisite picture of me in a mirror in a mirror in a mirror... I came out and Jr. Mack had replaced Mauricio with this other guy, Slim something, who is there all the time and is TOTALLY CRAZY. I think he had a little too much fun in the 60s, 'cause he seems pretty cracked out now. And just before we left, Kerri and Shannon took advantage of the musician's break to hop onstage and pretend to rock out.
Let's get the random stuff outta the way. Last weekend it was so sunny out, everybody came out to enjoy it. Even those with difficulty walking couldn't resist themselves. I was walking around downtown around sunset and was struck by the light hitting this building so beautifully: And this just caught my attention at the Uptown 6 Bleecker St. station: Last night I was walking home from work and got caught in an unexpectedly torrential downpour. I was soaking wet and so was everybody (and everything) else. The subway station was teeming with water overflow, as you can see here, pouring down onto the tracks. Alright. Last Saturday I took myself to the Prada "Waist Down" skirt exhibit. I snagged these photos before the chick told me to put the camera away. It was pretty cool because there were about 100 skirts, many of which were installed on these devices that made them twirl constantly, above simulated subway grates. You know me and twirling skirts. On Sunday, Shannon & Jennifer and I went to Coney Island (our beach staple). We got us some chili dogs. (apply your favorite accent here.) Then we took a walk on the board(walk). With everybody else in the world. I liked this old and decrepit mural of King Neptune. It made me think of Dustin, as he was going to be our Neptune when we planned on being in the Mermaid Parade in June. A nice warm day was had by all. On Monday I went to go see "Brick" (recommended) but walked through the park first. It was so dern hot out that I had to rest myself halfway through. The grassy knoll I chose happened to be in perfect view of an impromptu event that I'm convinced one can only see in New York City: a rollerblade dance party. People were getting down to old-school hip-hop and soul music, not to mention flirting like crazy with each other. Even some non-wheeled bystanders joined in. This woman was pulling some classical ice-skating dance techniques on the floor, and tried to teach others her moves. These two dudes were watching and had to join in. And had to do it shirtless, I suppose. A feel-good way to spend the day. This li'l girl was just too cute. Last night, as I said, I was walking home from work. I had planned to go past the park but got caught in the rain. However, just before that, I was stopped dead in my tracks by the fantastic window display at Lord & Taylor. There's just something about these mannequins, perfectly poised, alabaster white, clean, flawless, empty. It inspired me.
