Groovy, baby.

One night last week Dustin and I went deep into the heart of Brooklyn to see his brother, Tommy, play drums in his band, called Erector Set. The place, although in a sketchy-feeling 'hood, was tiny, cool, and well-decorated. The bathroom was covered wall-to-wall.




We went with Phoebe and their uncle, Mr. Stickney.


While the band set up, I got some bad photos.


You can kind of see Tommy through there.


The band was awesome! I was a little surprised, but the group of 18-year-olds had a very catchy sound and played all their own songs (which were well-written and had great hooks) except for one cover of a Kylie Minogue song.

We now pause for some New York moments. A doll abandoned and forgotten on the sidewalk:


And a ne'er-do-well's motto scrawled on a subway car:


On Saturday, Dustin and I decided to have a picnic.


Naw, we left the rack of lamb at the meat department and instead got some prosciutto and cheeses for a li'l pick-a-nic.




Mmmmm, cheese.



We got to Riverside Park right at sunset and enjoyed some delicious flavor combinations among the fireflies and cool breeze.



I am totally in love with this particular brand of ginger beer:



I cut up the avocado with the kind of skill that only a chef, or a girl whose father knows how to masterfully slice avocado, could do.


Ah, dusk.


The next day, Dustin and I met up at The Whitney, which you may remember I had some trouble getting to last week... thankfully this time I arrived on time, with no problems except the pouring rain all around. We were there to see the "Summer Of Love: The Art Of The Psychedelic Era" exhibit. The place was crawling with guards, so I apologize if some of these renegade pics are wonky.

Outside they had this groovy car.


Inside, there were posters.



There were amazing dark rooms with only a projector showing trippy undulating installation films.




There was an epilepsy-aggravating room made of aluminum drapes and strobe lights. That one really made me nauseous.



There were cool sculptures.


Of course, paintings too.




This was the ceiling of a bright room, more like a box, that you walk into and it's covered in these paintings, which are backlit by the room itself.




It's hard to explain, maybe this exterior wide will help:


This box was in a room that you had to take your shoes off for. The floor was covered in shag carpet, and it was pitch black except for this box. There was a terrible buzzing white noise that permeated the space and the whole room smelled like feet. That REALLY made me nauseous.


They had a paint blob on the floor.


They had an early Rauschenberg, which I almost peed my pants over.


They had this giant box with a tiny square hole you look into, and this is what you see:


It was like you died and went to disco heaven. But the coolest thing they had was this big ol' cuddle room, filled with a rainbow of colors and made of felt shapes. It was great for 5-year-old boys who like to crawl around.


As well as some baby boomers who probably remembered the time period from whence it came.


We were lovin' it.


The ceiling was so beautiful!


I loved the red.





Just seeing that exhibit made me feel like I was in another dimension. I can't imagine what it must have been like for the hippies in the '60s who were on drugs and living through it.

On the 4th floor was nobody. Everyone was at the psychedelic exhibit and missed out on the most beautiful room in New York.


The whole space was covered in a thin veil of aluminum foil, scratched thousands of times by the artist and every viewer who actually came to see it.



And wow! that chandelier.


There was also this gorgeous room where the floor was made of mirrors and on the walls were paintings of gold abstract textures.


Well, it's Wednesday now and I am just counting the days until our vacation to the beaches of Mexico (three days). I am working so much, late every night, but it will make my week of nothing that much sweeter. I won't be posting for another 2 weeks or so, so take care! Love y'all.

*jenna*