Well, as the gift bottle of hot sauce from James & Deb says Well slap my ass and call me sally - the link super secret code works and now it's as if a whole new universe opened afore my fingers.
Went to look into ground zero yesterday, and to visit Smithosonian's Museum of the Native American outside Battery Park. I was mistaken, my images on permanent view are in War-shington (as they say in the midwest) and not there. But it turned out that there was a traveling show about Native American beadwork there and I DID have work in that show, a documentary image of Iroquois women doing beadwork.
Before that emo-jaunt I went to my fav jewelry store in SoHo, Me and Ro , and picked up a new addition to the other gold band I wear with the la vérité éternelle (eternal truth) - this one is also gold with a small ruby and it the Tibetan word for compassion dug into it.
After ground zero went to the museum to see not only my work on display but to also see Tibetan monks making their sand mandala in honor of Yamantaka and it was even more intricate and colorful than I could ever have imagined. I watched the monks work on it with their copper tools for hours, long funnels with ridges along the sides and copper sticks to rub against them to make the sand grains come out slowly or quickly, depending on the rub. It's a mesmerizing, musical process.
I talked with one of the monks and asked him to look at my new ring.
He held it in his holy hands and pronounced that it did say compassion, pronounced neen-jay in Tibetan.
I was relieved that it didn't mistakenly or brazenly say dogpoop.
Before all of this I bumped into an MTV crew on the Chinatown streets, daring innocents to do things/thinks for cold hard cash money. $50 was offered to a handsome teen to take a raw fish into his mouth and be filmed taking a cab all the way up to Times Square. He said no and scooted away.
They approached another person, next to me. Suddenly the host saw me How about this girl? They offered me $300 cash and I said I WILL barf in the cab (I was x-tremely hungover) and he said GREAT!!! we'll get it on camera. I said But I'm not going that way. A woman said It's the holiday season. I said Then you do it! I was out for the night, knew I'd stink of fish and had ground zero and holiness waiting for me. I said no, the host was wide-eyed and off I walked. I imagined cheezball writers at the middling city's daily catching that fishy whiff and my name sprawled out in the paper: Local Photog and Her Fishy Mouth!!!! abso-fuckin-lootly not.

A former bosstype man in NYC gave me the secret to linking. I now have the perfect power, I think. So here's an experiment:
The other day I noted a woman who was disgruntled and so I said Hey bitch snap out of it.
Let's give this a whirl, Perfect Nancy's World followers.

I'm now going to dispense some Perfect holiday advice:
When shopping for others remember number one. When holiday shopping my mantra is One gift for Them, one gift for ME. It makes the holidays much happier.
You've worked hard, you made your money, it's in your pocket, you're spending your money, you see things you want so why the hell not? And who knows best what you want than you.

Off to NYC tomorrow for a few days and heard about Tibetan monks making a rare mandala sand painting at the Smithsonian's Museum of the Native American near WTC site. It's of a god, Yamantaka, "the opponent of death." I have work on permanent view at this museum and have never been there. So this trip.
Absolute words of wisdom, imparted by H.R. of Bad Brains/Soul Brains who I shot on Saturday night in a crowded venue:
It's okay to laugh, it's okay to have fun!

Shot the nice Jewish boy gone to hell in a smart multi-media hand basket last night, aka Rob Zombie. Me and the boy colleagues were warned before stepping into the pit: There are loads of pyros. You have to worry about the condition of pyros (and your immediate eyebrow safety) when a cranked-out looking roadie is attaching thick cables and wiring moments before the fall of the big black curtain.
I've seen Zombie before and I find him, his music and his explosive stage set meltingly invigorating. As I walked to my car with a boy colleague I said Hey look at my sweater, it's covered with ash.
When I arrived at the security bunker before Rob Zombie I had just missed an Ozzy Osbourne sighting: all the jacketed security guards and the photogs were in a state of mild shock as Ozzy staggered by, ashen-faced, shaking and walking with a cane.
I saw him after that during his meet & greet, I watched through the security door. We all agreed that he had received a boost of some sort.
The tour is sponsored by Mountain Dew, perhaps that's his new chem of choice.
NO PHOTO PASSES FOR OZZY, another helpless victim of Aging Rock Star Syndrome.