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Art in Motion

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Well, that was pretty careless of me. I climbed out of the comfort zone last week by signing up for the Gowanus Open Studies 2025, which is billed as Brooklyn’s biggest celebration of local art and artists. The event features hundreds of artists across dozens of venues in the greater Gowanus neighborhood, who opened their doors for a look inside the old factory buildings that have converted to studios. I attended one of these open houses last year and I had a great time, but, of course, when the appointed day arrived, I found myself cranking out a litany of excuses for skipping the event and chilling out home alone. I’m happy to say that I had ignored the voices of defeat and headed down to the former industrial zone around the Gowanus Canal to join the other members of the Meet Up group. I have childhood memories of driving through this area with my father, before it had been yuppified, and I remember how dark and spooky the place looked. Our leader, Ron, puts together som...
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Waterworld

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The conditions could not have been worse. I rarely watch movies on airplanes, as I don’t think it’s fair to shoehorn a filmmaker’s work into those tiny screens in front of my face. And to be honest, I’m usually either so frightened of flying or so stoned on Xanax to appreciate what I’m watching. But during my recent flight home from Denver, I had just the right amount of narcotics in my system where I was calm without being comatose. I shelled out 8 bucks for a pair of headphones, checked out the cinematic bill of fare and came across Flow , an absolutely beautiful animated film that won the Academy Award for best animated feature, while also being nominated for best international feature—the first film from Latvia to do so. The film, which also won a Golden Globe Award, is a kind of visual poem that features no dialog as it tells the story of a cat trying to survive in some post-apocalyptic world that has been devastated by a great flood. The fact that I was able to lose m...
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Cornhusker Tales

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Well, now I know what “corybantic” means. I recently returned from a trip to Denver and rural Nebraska, and I have to say I’m rather proud of myself. There were so many times that I wanted to bail on this journey. In addition to my fear of flying, I was also renting a car, and being a New Yorker, I was convinced my lack of driving experience would result in all manner of destruction. My brother, his wife, my niece and her husband live in the Denver area, and I was really looking forward to seeing them. I was going to Nebraska, though, to do research for a play that I’m writing. As soon I booked the trip, I wailed to my sister that I was facing certain doom all for a play that nobody would ever produce or even read. “Don’t look at it that way,” she said. “Think that you’re going out there to research a Pulitzer Prize winning play.” Now, that’s the right attitude. But I was still terrified. When Rob, our family’s designated car service driver, dropped me off at JFK at 5...
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On the Road

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Hey, peeps, just a quick note to say that I'm taking a break for a litte while for some R&R I've been going through the usual pre-trip hysteria over flying, driving, getting lost, being kidnapped, losing my wallet and a few thousand other atrocious scenarious that don't bear repeating. Other than that I'm fine. I doubt if I'll have much time for blogging or reading your posts, but I promise to get up-to-date upon my return. Take care and enjoy life.
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Smishing Expedition

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I looked down at my phone as soon as I heard the ping. “Hey, did that parcel I sent make it to you?” Parcel? The only packages I’ve been getting lately have been from Amazon, so, no, I didn’t, whoever you are. I wonder if this the same person who texted me on Friday. “I see your number, but not your name,” it read. “Can you tell me who are?” Probably not. Why would you send a parcel to someone you don’t know? Or maybe it was that individual who texted me last month, asking “how about going for coffee tomorrow afternoon?” “This is my new number,” the stranger added. “Please save it.” Okay, but if you really knew me, then you’d know I don’t drink coffee. But that’s all right, I’m about to make a killing in the stock market. “Goldman Sachs, yesterday's stock soared 80%,” a recent text told me. “Tomorrow's pick aims for 60%. Reply yes for free signal.” No, I don’t think I want a free signal, whatever that maybe. But at least one person cares about me. “Hey, ho...
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Awe Shucks

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I had just left my house this morning for my hike to the gym, when I saw a woman walking her dog. She was standing by a garden while her doggie took care of business. I was also set to walk around her when she turned toward me. “Have you ever stopped here and smelled the grapes?” she asked. Grapes? I didn’t even know there were grapes growing in this garden, never mind smelled them. She stood aside, whereupon I stepped up, took a deep breath and got a pleasant whiff of vitis larusca . “That’s nice,” I said. “I’ve heard of stop and smell the roses, but you can also stop and smell the grapes.” We laughed, I wished her a good day, and I continued to the gym. I’ve been trying all sorts of positive techniques to improve my rather dark disposition, and I recently came across the concept of the awe walk. This is where you shift your attention outward during a walk to notice and appreciate the wonder and beauty in the world. This can be found in nature, art, or acts of kin...
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Lucky Old Sun

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It was such a beautiful day, just like it was 24 years ago. This is the anniversary of 9/11 attacks that destroyed the World Trade Center, severely damaged the Pentagon and killed nearly 3,000 people. The sun was shining so brightly back on that morning in 2001, the kind of day where you’d think nothing could possibly go wrong. And then it did. I watched the reading of the names today, like I do every year, and it was so painful to hear the stories, to see how these poor people have suffered for all this time. Many of the readers hadn’t been born when the attacks occurred and they have grown up with a terrible gap in their lives. The world has changed so much since the attacks and not for the better. For a while people would ask if we had learned anything from the 9/11 attacks, but I haven’t heard that one in a while. And with good reason. Human beings—especially Americans—aren’t very good at learning from tragedies. And I include myself in that group. I can distinctly re...
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