Quick trip to NYC last weekend. Chris is still there at a conference, and I am back home picking tomatoes. I was just out in the garden when the neighbor, Marsha, started chatting with me. They are outside bbq-ing with friends. She asked me how I like married life and then she asked me if i’d like a shot of tequila (don’t think she meant to associate the two so quickly). I said yes, and in exchange gave them a zucchini.
Saw an exhibit in the City at ICP. I went for the Stephen Shore, a long-term, largely technical effort that left me almost completely umoved, but was awed by “Let Your Motto Be Resistance.” The portraits from the National Gallery are varied and mostly amazing, and I learned a lot. Then there were approximately 65 pictures of Amelia Earhart looking almost exactly as coltish and darling and svelte as in the next picture. They come from a book exploring the use of her image to finance aviation exploration and what looks like a very nice lifestyle with her husband, the publisher G.P. Putnam (though he looks more handler than husband). Basically, they worked it: something no one bats an eyelash at today but perhaps was another of her innovations at the time. There’s a book I enjoyed a long time ago that pretends to know what goes through the mind and appetites of the woman, and imagines her and Noonan, the rogue-ish navigator, crash-landed on an island, lost to the rest of the world but most alive to nature and each other.
After an afternoon of walking around for me (from Bryant Park, full of sunbathers and chess players and mothers in fabulous sunglasses, to Central Park and sidestreets in between) and midtown conferencing for CBY, we jumped in the Cherry Bomb & dodged our way through the Village and across the Manhattan Brigde to see Ryan and Ariana in Brooklyn. Thanks for taking such good care of us, guys! The wandering around pics are on C’s camera, still in the city, but here are a few snaps from the car.
Brooklyn kitchen light
P.S. Never pass up a flea market. George Jones for $3!