The Luna Park Gazette

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...

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...

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...