Happy, Spicy.

Could Yours Truly, completely minding her own art-making & looking beeswax on the right side of the Empire State, be any happier this very moment.
I think not.
Firstly, the pesky man who sat alongside me at beloved Café Habana has finally left.
After the several furtive raised eyebrow-raises between me, corner eater (in MY spot), and barista.
He took a few smoke breaks, again to more raised eyebrows.
The last lasting so long that there was speculation between staffers if he might return.
A glance down Prince Street revealed that he of ruddy face and gape-mouthed eating was indeed just a few yards further along the street.
His stare burrowed holes into the left side of my face.
And, as I told the adorable barista, I had to replace my shuffle back atop my reading head to not hear any more sluicing of foodstuffs in his mouth.
And, because of this eater, YT is embarking on yet another new YT-crafted enterprise: Extreme Table Manners Makeover.
This show will be on the road, and will be a slightly different, probably as soon-to-be viral as the dude who documents the disgusting on subways.
After a court of law determined that his bloggings-on about his fellow I think N Train riders was constitutional YT imagines yet more lemmings will attempt to cash in on this reality television show that is life - at times.
But of course YT really intends ETMM as a public service more than anything else.

YT is here in the Shiney Apple to make art.
YT is here to find art.
YT is here to look.
And think.
This is what is called a freelancer's vacation - grabbed when possible.
And working on the road.
And coming up with making-over ops.

Onward to the museum where the mother of YT was wounded two summers ago on trip with YT - New Museum - to see some conceptual work by one Urs Fischer.
Mirrors, body parts, wack scales of objets - a recipe for titillation.

Onwards.

Artful, enterprising Love.