proteanme

New York City, even on a gray day like today, I can’t help myself; I have a crush. Plus, kinda like Paris, people are better looking or at least look more interesting. Riding in the cab from the airport to the city I noticed there was something more familiar in the skyline. The way it lifts and stretches out. The disiduous trees and low standing buildings on the way in. So different from the mountians and huge trees and low hanging clouds crowding down Portland’s sky and something I’m still not accustomed to.

Went to Union Square market and of course they don’t have a thing on the local produce that Portland farmers produce, but to see the stands out in the middle of the city was heartening. Expensive, but heartening.Now if they could figure out how to bike and recycle here,we’d be talking wow!

I’m not sitting at a railway station, but at the Denver aiport.  Gotta go board.  See you soon, Hoosiers.

So . . . almost 30 years later, and after bailing at the last minute on David And Julie’s wedding because I was so freaked about flying, I finally made it back on to a plane by myself and I went some where, San Francisco to be exact. Good lord, that felt great. Fear has been such a tough companion, but a companion all the same. I welcome any and all pats on the back, I’d just ask you to stay away from the aggressive kinda of language to explain that work. I’ve not conquered anything and will power hasn’t won. Nope this has all been about willingness and compassion. I’ll blog more on SF later.

I mentioned in my hilight list that I went to the MOMA. I envy New Yorker’s access to such a treasure. I was down right blown away by De Kooning and Pollack. The De Kooning drawings seemed so deliberate and careless all at the same time, nothing finished and still everything was there. I’m not sure I even have words for Pollack, but I kept thinking about how great performers leave it all on the stage, and with Pollack it felt like he left it all on the canvas. Powerful, powerful stuff. It also had this wonderful balance of head and heart that was so, so moving. And while not a huge Picasso fan, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, was amazing. Really, I’ve never seen something so perfect in planning and execution.

Plus we kept running into these class tours led by these super cute women, who, from what I overheard, were saying all sorts of smart and engaging things. And I kept thinking how I would just fall in love with art if they were teaching my 7th grade art class. By comparison my 7th grade art teacher seemed to be doing time behind the desk. Wasn’t til I got in highschool that I got a real art teacher.

Compared to the MOMA most of the New Museum collection seemed like a joke. And I’m not just talking about throwing down some of these young guys (and by the way where are the women in art) with Pollack, I’m talking about judging them against the MOMA’s collection of self taught and outsider art. By and large the New Museum’s collection reminded me of a New York review of Books critique of Jonathan Lethem, which said something like Lethem needed to remember that the number of times he’d seen Star wars was not profound and that Lethem and a number of his contemporaries are caught up in the minutiae of their coming of age stories but unable to make it meaningful beyond nostalgia. I left the New Museum thinking good lord we’ve raised a generation of narcissists.

Back from a too short trip to New York. Some of the highlights were:

• Meeting Amos
• Going to the MOMA
• Lovely weather
• Finding out that the first bahn mi I had was in fact the best bahn mi
• Looking at nice looking ladies
• Hanging out with good friends
• Flying direct