Springtime in New York can be beautiful. Who would ever want to leave this?
Well, for Kerri, the greener pastures of her hometown in Arizona were calling. To my great dismay, she decided to go back to the big AZ . Shannon has already moved out of their apartment to Long Island with her beau, and since this was Kerri's last weekend here in NY, I went out to dinner with her on Friday night.
But first we had to go to Forever 21 and show how much we love their uncomfortable shoes (Kerri refuses to get a pair of shoes in any shade but black or brown).
We had a nice Italian dinner and on Saturday morning, the super foursome that is Kerri, Shannon, Jennifer and myself got together to have a photo shoot, courtesy of Kerri's photographer friend Jay.
We met up at the Gansevoort Hotel in the Meatpacking District.
Jay, who has photographed for magazines and tons of weddings, told us about his ideas for the shoot.
It was pretty warm out, but beautifully sunny, the perfect weather for our purposes.
Kerri's such a natural. She can't get enough of the spotlight.
Jay was a great director.
He knew all the best spots to take us.
While he did some individual shots with Shannon, we kept ourselves busy by being our own photographers.
We found this random shoe tied to a no-parking sign.
Shannon and Kerri tried to decipher its deeper meaning.
... while Jennifer was busy becoming America's Next Top Model.
It was fabulous!
After that, we had the photo-taking bug.
Especially when we saw this photogenic laundry.
We bid Jay a fond adieu and went to the roof of the Gansevoort. They don't allow pro photogs to shoot up there, so we thought we'd just get our own rooftop shot. (oh, by the by, I'll post some of the professional photos when we get them back.)
But we were exhausted, so we sat down and joked around for a bit.
Kerri reflected upon our fair city.
We finally found some poor tourist to take our picture. Well, I don't know how poor they could have been, considering they were staying at the Gansevoort.
Later we went to Floren's diner for some tasty brunch.
Yesterday Jennifer and I went to Kerri's for one last dinner. It was sad to go into their apartment. The walls were so empty, all of our paintings from the last two years packed up or taken away.
Shannon's room was pretty empty too.
As was Kerri's, practically.
Kerri couldn't take this painting with her on the plane, and Shannon apparently didn't want it, so we took it downstairs to put in the trash. However, I found a random nail in the wall and insisted we hang it.
Luckily, Jennifer volunteered to take the painting. God bless her.
Well, it's the end of an era. Shannon is out in L.I., Kerri's gone back to Arizona, and in a couple of weeks Jennifer will be in Italy for a year.
It'll be a lonely summer. But it was good while it lasted.
Monday nights are not traditionally a good night for "rock concerts." It's the beginning of the week, everybody's grumpy and has to get up the next day, there's little time to relax and have fun before or after the show... so I had small hopes for the Arcade Fire concert last Monday night. I didn't know whether I would like the band, because although I'm a big fan of their music, I saw a performance of theirs on "SNL" awhile back and it was dreadful (I thought). But nevertheless, when the tickets went on sale, we jumped on it like a... hm. Anybody from Texas have a good metaphor? Like a fly on a cupcake? Eh.
Anyway, the show was held at United Palace Theatre, where we saw Modest Mouse one week before, and we arrived just as lights dimmed and the Arcade Fire came on.
However, last week our seats were on the lower level, beneath the balcony, and we had no idea of the true scale of this venue. This time, from the loge (new word in my ken!), we were awed by the scope of the theatre.
(this was just the balcony) Now you see how you can fit 4,000 people in here.
The place, as you may remember, is ornately decorated, and the ceiling is no exception.
Anyway, the band played and boy were they terrific. I now feel ashamed that I ever doubted them.
I think there are like 10 people in the band, and they all play weird instruments like the hurdy gurdy and accordion and french horn, as well as traditional band instruments like the guitar and violin and stand-up bass. You would not believe the energy of these people, especially the violinists. Many members would trade instruments during the show, and one of the drummers threw his drum in the air and caught it in jubilation.
Sorry, photos just don't do it justice, but it was truly a spectacle and an enthralling experience. As always, you can click on the picture to get a bigger and more detailed view.
Any time a band can get 4,000 people to segue songs for them by way of hand clapping, without even having to do that "clap your hands, everybody!" motion that performers do, engaging the entire crowd into one pulsating clapping house of vigorous energy, that is an amazing live band.
I took this one from a video I got with my digital camera during "Haiti."
Many of their songs encourage choruses of people and therefore, a lot of singing along. During the refrain in a song called "No Cars Go," (listen here) all band members shout, "HEY!" and so during the performance, during each "HEY!", bright lights flashed from the stage into the audience, eliciting the proper response.
"HEY!"
The audience was loving it, and we were no exception.
They were one of those bands that can play a huge venue and make each person feel like they were a part of something. Making that many people have an intimate group experience is rare, I think. The only other band I've seen like that was the Flaming Lips.There is just nothing in the world like being to an amazing concert.
I would see the Arcade Fire again in a second, no questions. Even if I had to wait in this narrow, hot hallway with thousands of other people just to escape, I would do it for the Arcade Fire.
Spain is all the rage in New York museums these days. Dustin's dad recommended the Met's Barcelona exhibit, "Barcelona and Modernity: Gaudi to Dali." After a bit of work on Saturday, I left the office and the sun was shining so pleasantly that I called up my beau to see if he wanted to do something. He suggested the Met, so off we went.
Every part of that darn museum is beautiful. Getting to the exhibit we walked through the Sculpture Court and were impressed by this marble masterpiece.
The muscles, the vertebrae, good golly miss molly. Exquisite. The first thing we saw in the exhibit was a painting of a previous incarnation of Dustin circa The Early 1900s.
There was plenty to see at this amazingly curated exhibit. It was more than paintings; there were sculptures, furniture, photographs of architecture, and unique stories behind many of the pieces. You fully got a sense of the culture of Barcelona back then. We weren't allowed to take pictures, but you don't think I'd let my blog readers down, now do you? I wouldn't, and neither would Dustin. The pictures from this day are courtesty of both of us (as most of my blogs are). So, if it seems that many of the pictures are oddly framed, it's just because we were stealthy, in a hurry, and feeling the rush of adrenaline that comes with the rebellion of taking a photograph when you're not supposed to. Ooooh! We so crazy!
Of course, our man Dali made an appearance. This picture was ca-ray-zee and had many subtle things going on in its imagery.
There was some art deco fun to be had.
This painting was by Cassas. It was bought by an obscure American writer who could barely scrape together the money to pay Cassas but was enamored of Spain. His name was Earnest Hemingway.
They even had some fabulous furniture. This was the top of a vanity/beaureau, all details made of different species of woods.
And what would a Spanish exhibit be without Picasso? We've got the Blue Period...
Some political satire cartoons...
And some Weeping Women...
After that amazing exhibit, we were going to leave the museum when I saw a sign for a Louis Comfort Tiffany exhibit. I am quite familiar with his work because my mom loves him. Mom, I wish you could have been there!! I took some illegal pictures for you.
It was just beautiful. Breathtaking. After that, we went up to the roof to see the sights.
There was some interesting sculpture up there.
And views!
These flowers reminded me of the grapevines in the Louis Comfort Tiffany exhibit.
We went back downstairs and had dinner in the Met restaurant. Naturally, the wall decoration even in the restaurant was beautiful. Looka this big ol' rose.
Dustin had a delicious carrot soup.
We had this amazing psychic waiter, Sal. He predicted what both of us would have before we ordered it, down to the beverage. He's been doing this for 30 years or something.
Dustin said to me, "When's Valentine's Day?" I rolled my eyes and said, "Are you serious?!"
"I just wanna make sure," he said. "Don't worry, you don't have to give me anything for the next 6 months," I told him. "I mean, you know, unless you want to."
So he did.
He saw me fawning over this journal in the gift shop after the Tiffany exhibit and picked it up for me. So sweet! My baby is good to me, yes he is.
If there's anybody out there who doesn't think this is the most beautiful journal ever created, give me a call and I'll set you straight.
It makes me want to write just looking at it.
By the way, in that first picture, just behind me is who we call our Met Angel. When we were trying to get to the roof, we got lost and he appeared out of nowhere, gently guiding us to the right place. When we asked the elevator operator where the dining room is and she rudely blew us off, he was right there guiding us to the better restaurant as we got off the elevator. When my entree went missing while Dustin got his, our Met Angel glided past me, silently noted the absence, and got on our waiter about it. We had a very supernatural Met experience that day.
Anyway, I had the filet mignon.
Dustin had the chicken (which Sal wrote on his notepad before Dustin ordered it).
For dessert, he read off the list of gelati and sorbets and looked at Dustin and said, "I'll bet you have the cherry, mango, and vanilla." Sure enough...
So I haughtily said, "Well, what am I gonna have?" He said, "The cheesecake." Yup.
And boy was it yummy. What a glorious way to spend the afternoon!
Afterward, we were due at a bowling alley at the Port Authority for the birthday party of Dustin's friend Harris. It was sooooo third grade grown-up .
Harris was there with his new girl, whose b-day was the same day (joint partay).
What a cute coupla hipsters!
I had been sorely missing that itchy uncomfortable feeling that bowling shoes give you. Ew.
After 9pm the bowling alley turns into a discotec of sorts, with old disco and hip hop and motown music pulsing in tandem with neon lights.
Althea and Matt made it out from Brooklyn (the tables were turned that night!)
And so did Matty and Christina, a dynamic plaid duo.
D. and I relished in our visages aglow against stripes of varying shades.
It was a good social experience, like going to a bar but with more to do. I'm not sure why Harris was caressing Althea in front of Matt at this moment, but alas...
But enough of that shmoozing stuff. Dustin got right down to business and bowled a strike on his second turn. He'd really been practicing on PS 260's new Nintendo Wii all week.
Then we proceeded to take pictures of everybody in the same bowling pose.
Behold, the youth of today's New York City.
Boy, this is turning into a long post. Anyway, on Sunday, after a delicious and intellectually stimulating brunch with Dustin's parents, I was feeling rather motivated and made the closet transition between winter and summer clothes. Now THAT is a task. All of my summer clothes were in a crate underneath my bed, behind boxes and basketballs and paint sets and my guitar and video camera and and and... Anyway, I felt so accomplished after that that I cleaned my entire room (swept and everything!). And after THAT, I really was on a roll and decided to finally (FINALLY) redo my bedroom décor, which has been 7 months in the making (what is wrong with me?!). I don't have a picture of what it used to look like, but it used to be all very red and golden, and I had a gigantic "Pulp Fiction" poster in Italian over my bed, and many beautiful images on the opposite wall, accompanied by quotes from the book "Adam's Navel."
I got new blue and white linens, took down the poster, and took down the images. Unfortunately, those images had been there for a very, very long time and didn't come down easily, leaving much of themselves behind.
I had no idea I was so disgusting. That stuff didn't come off, either. I tried for hours to scrub it off, to no avail. If anyone has any helpful household hints for getting tape adhesive off of a painted wall, PLEASE let me know.
So this is it now. It's such a tiny room, with a window facing a brick wall, that I have to do something to make myself love it. Bird decals!
And lace! And Jenna Collages!
So that was my uber-productive, fun weekend. Next post: The Arcade Fire concert. Cheers!
