Where have I been.
On the other side of this great Empire state, wowing the masses with my brand new digital video skills. I filmed a gaggle of brides in Central Park in their flowy whiteness in the middle of the parkish snow. It reminded me of the joke about a polar bear in the midst of a blizzard when someone made a darkroom gaffe and had no details in something that was blown out. Photog humour, a laugh an f-stop minute.
So during aforementioned blizzard in NYC I sledded with Beth and Phillip for hours down the stairs (yes, stairs) near the fountain whose special name escapes me. There were groups of people watching us, probably thinking they were witnessing a taping of Jackass.
But then they'd see our glee, that we were able to stand afterwards, hadn't broken our limbs or necks and would ask for a turn. It was slightly bumpy down the first set of steps, then a quick skidding over the landing, then a catch of air as you careened down the second set of steps. We warmed ourselves in the boathouse next to the fireplace then headed back out for more. This time the steps nearby leading into a dark and icy tunnel. More whoops of joy, all captured by Beth's video option on her micro-Elph camera and after seeing the passable quality I thought Hmmm, why did I buy a Canon GL2 and not use the Olympus 5050?
So back in the Middling City where I'm rushing to meetings and errands and to pet the stray cat fellas and work on school projects from afar. For in four weeks we grad people are converging at Parsons for a marathon array, display and critique. For those of you who have never splayed yourself before a roomful of people let me say this: you are on trial, your ego balloon may be popped by surprising pins of criticism and at times you have flashes of the thought I'm an artist and I don't give a flying pixel what you have to say about this.
Onwards to art.
Love.