NY NY big city of dreams but sometimes NY ain't what it seems.
And so goes that ol' wrap.
Wandered through Chelsea just moments ago looking looking looking.
The new Inka Essenhigh oils are smart and odd and leave a rather positively grotesque feeling.
Last night wandered into Portale's joint again to deliver an art piece, handed it to the front of house staffers and then sat at the longass bar to await Dorota's arrival for vino. Chef Portale came out to say Hello and we talked, he and I, about him designing furniture and about the small framed piece I gave him - an image from the Conflagration series, a silver print about 4x5 inches and in a very wonderful wood frame, painted silver.
He dug the piece completely and I hope he hangs it in Gotham.
Dorota arrived, we had vino, more vino then the maitre d/Charles asked if we'd be staying for dinner. I said possibly. Then after a while Yes.
So they sat us at a table for 2 near the bar, elevated and looking out over the dining room. We had, of course, a perfect dinner followed by perfect confections tiny and midsized.
Then they came to say Portale was - unbelievably - picking up the bill so I/we left a very generous tip.
Onwards to cocktails.
Onwards to art.
I'm in NY and it's time for more art.
More more more.
How do you like it, how do you like it?
Days and nights, nights and days.
Consuming love.