Sunday, September 28, 2008

SoBro House - Bronx, New York

I bought a camera today! Yay me! It'll be here in about 2 days, then I have to learn how to use the damn thing, and then I'll post some pictures. I think the last time I owned a camera I was still in junior high.

Also, Kevin got a little obsessed with me writing about "The crazy bitches" in this house. So there you have it. My friends are crazy. And bitches. But I love them and this ghetto house.

Saturday, September 27, 2008

Grand Central Station - New York, New York

You know how you always see all those photographs and post cards of the sun coming into Grand Central in the morning, and it looks pretty fantastic? This morning I had a chance to hang out in Grand Central while the sun came up. It doesn't really look like that, but it's nice to just sit on the edges and watch the place fill up with the morning commuters. Maybe it would look like that at the right time of day, if the lights weren't so bright in here. I always thought those pictures were sunrise though because the station is always empty for them. At sunset the station would be packed. But... it's just a photograph, so who knows if it is set up and orchestrated some how. Still, this is such a beautiful building. I never noticed the zodiac signs on the ceiling. Never bothered to look up. Never had an hour to kill so early in the morning.

I've got to head back up to the Bronx, but no one will be up until 8am. My bus got in at 6:30am. I thought it was supposed to go to Penn Station, but it only stopped in Chinatown. Lame. I do not know that area and I had to ask about a thousand people where the train was before I could find it. The trouble with not knowing your way in Chinatown is that no one there speaks enough english to tell you anything.

I'll be so happy to finally put my bags down and sleep in a horizontal position. People should not have to sleep on crowded busses. At least I slept through the whole tunnel. I am not at all a fan of driving through the tunnels. I'll go out of my way to take a bridge. Driving through a long tunnel like that just doesn't seem safe to me. For some reason I have no issues with the train going underwater to leave Manhattan, but I can't deal with a car doing it. Or, more accurately, hundreds of cars all at once. I'd much rather not do it. Like taking an elevator for less than 4 floors; I'd rather take the stairs, because elevators seem like a bad idea. It's rather odd, because I certainly consider myself a risk taker. I have no issues doing something unsafe 50 feet above the stage floor, rock climbing, caving, or running into traffic, but drive through a tunnel when I don't have to? No thanks. What an enigma.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Between Charlotte, NC and Richmond, VA

When I took the bus down to South Carolina on Monday the craziness of the whole ordeal got me talking to some of the passengers. I sat next to a woman named Robin. She was on her way back to Atlanta from Maine, where she had just buried her mother. She was an older woman, but she had no home and was staying with her son. She used to have a husband and a steady job, but she divorced him a few years ago, and then was laid off. Suffice to say, she had seen better times. I told her about what I was doing and the farm job I had lined up. She said she had been thinking of doing something like that, but she didn't know where to look. I gave her the WWOOF website and told her that it was worth the $20. She seemed excited and I hope she uses it. Who knows, maybe I'll bump into her again. I'm a little annoyed with myself for not getting her email address.

I am now back on a Greyhound bus. I'm heading back to Richmond to see Cory for a second and then leave for NY on a Chinatown bus at 1am. This Greyhound experience has been a lot like the last one, in that it sucks. The bus took off thirty minutes late, but this was understandable because the weather was pretty bad. We were running about an hour behind when the bus suddenly turned around 60 miles north of our last stop, Greensboro, NC. One of the passengers had gone up to the front of the bus, talked to the driver, and without explanation, the bus turned around. Finally one of the other passengers asked what the hell was going on. The driver told us he was going back to Greensboro to drop off that passenger that he had been talking to, and then we would turn back and drive straight to Richmond without making any stops. He expected we would get there on time, which should have been 5:20pm.

When we got back to Greensboro he dropped that passenger off at a rental truck place, not the bus stop. If I had known this bus was actually a cab maybe I would have asked to be taken to the Bronx instead. Lame. I have no idea why that guy did not get off the bus the first time we were in Greensboro, or what he said to the driver that made him turn around and drive back an hour and drop someone off at a place that was not even a real bus stop. It is now 5:50 and it has started raining again. We're not in Richmond. We're not even in VA yet.

The one good thing that has happened because of all this is that suddenly everyone on the bus is chatting with one another. The three people in front of me were talking about conspiracy theories for hours and have just changed to relationship advice. The people in the back of the bus are playing music. This young dude in a leather jacket walked up to me while at a rest stop and said something I could not understand. I asked him to repeat it and I still couldn't understand it. I was worried that it was his accent and I really didn't want to be a jerk about it. I told him that I was sorry, but I could not understand him. He said "Oh, I'm sorry, you don't speak Russian? I thought you did." I laughed it off. Now I would like to know what it was that he said, but he is several rows in front of me, talking to the elderly southern woman next to him. Maybe he's getting off in Richmond and I'll have time to ask him about it while I wait for Cory.

I wonder what made him think I spoke Russian? I know people often try to place my heritage, but no one has ever assumed I spoke another language based solely on what I look like. Interesting.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Grandma's House - Simpsonville, SC

Aaaaaand I'm in Greenville. Well no, I'm in Simpsonville, a little urban sprawl town right outside it. Oh suburbs, I'll never be comfortable here.

There is really nothing around here but houses. I went for a walk yesterday, just to see what it was like around here. Houses. A school. More houses. No bus, no store, not even a sidewalk. Lots of trees, but no trails. Private, private property. I didn't wander about too much, don't want to get shot at by any gun-toting ex-yankees in houses so big they don't know what to do with them. Giant houses on little plots all set right up on the road.

I called my cousin and he came and picked me up. He lives about 45 minutes from my grandmothers, so I was very grateful. There's not much to do in Greenville, but at least there are things to look at. We walked around the downtown area. Got gelato. I'm boring myself here and I wish I had something amazing to report, but I don't. I'm not sure why anyone would want to live here. There's not much culture or history. Well, maybe there used to be, but it appears that all the old buildings have been torn down to make way for shopping centers and fake waterfalls.

The day ended with a rousing game of Parchisi. I almost won, BUT MY UNCLE CHEATED. That's not true, he's not a cheater, I just stink at Parchisi. Picking up my mother today. She'll school everyone at that game. Oh. Statements like that one are what make SC so boring. I'm going to go out now and spray paint "Barock the Vote" in the streets, that should rouse things up a bit.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Between Richmond, VA and Greenville, SC

Backstory: I have been planning to go down to SC to visit my grandmother in her new home and surprise her. My mother planned to fly out and meet me so we could surprise her together. The plan was, I would take a Greyhound into Charlotte and she would fly. I would get there a few hours before her and take public transportation to the airport so that we could be picked up together and I wouldn't have to hang out in a greyhound station.

Wow. Wow. Oh my ridiculous travels. I'm in day two of my bus trip down to SC and oh my God how did this happen!?!? Yesterday I called my mother to check in and see what time we were getting picked up by my uncle, and I find out that I had the whole trip planned around the wrong day. My mother is not coming in until Wednesday which means I didn't have anyone to pick me up from Charlotte until then. I frantically called my uncle and then purchased another bus ticket that would take me from Charlotte (about 2 hours from their place) to Greenville (about 15 minutes from their place). The ticket didn't cost much, so it wasn't a huge deal, but it's a good thing the bus goes there at least. I finally spoke to my uncle and he'll be able to pick me up. *phew*

Right, don't sigh in relief quite so fast Krysta, you know how your luck runs. I would say that part of the reason I'm such a resourceful person is because of all the crazy shit that always seems to happen in my life. As soon as I think a situation is fixed, something stupid almost always happens to make it worse.

So what happened? Well, the bus showed up an hour late to Greyhound because it had broken down. It didn't leave for another hour after that. The driver, who I think might be a bit crazy, spent a great deal of time yelling at passengers for no apparent reason. Then, as I thought we might be making up some time, he got lost. One of the passengers managed to give him directions, and we are now running two and a half hours late. AWESOME!

But wait, it gets better! My connecting bus leaves at 3:30, we were supposed to be in at 2:30. Not going to make it now though. The ticketing woman told me that the bus I am on is the one that goes to Greenville, and it has the same route number. If that is the case, then I should have nothing to worry about. However (and there's always a however), the bus driver told me that this bus is not going to Greenville. So who knows! Not me! Maybe there's another bus leaving to Greenville a little later, but at this rate we might not get into Charlotte until next week.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

SoBro House - Bronx, New York

Today was my first trip ever to Coney Island. I'm not sure how it is possible that I grew up in NY and I never came here, but I think it has something to do with my parents not loving me enough. Wow. I love it!! I'm so sad that they are ripping it all down! People talk about how run down and gross it is, but it's not really. It's just not updated like the rest of this city. But why would anyone want to update a place like this? I feel like it's classic. There are old arcade games, old rides, old boardwalks, old people... wait, no actually, it was mostly young people.

I guess I'm a little obsessed with the way things used to be in NY before a bunch of mayors came in and insisted on making everything so commercial. I like the older stuff. I would not have minded walking into Times Square and seeing a smut theatre where Mary Poppins now stands. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to put my values in theatre below smut, but as far as theatre goes, Mary Poppins is not it, and I'm not sure that Disney should even own any Broadway houses.

The wonderful thing about Coney Island is that it's a bunch of independent people who have set up shop there and run their own things. It's not just one big Astroland, it's a bunch of little parks with a handful of rides, and Astroland is one of them. Then there are a bunch of carnival games and arcades. One of those games is Shoot the Freak. Oh my god! How genius is a guy in padding running around while being shot by idiots with a paint ball gun and a $20 bill? Sadly, no one was playing while I was there, so I didn't get to see the action.

I did however, throw 25 cents into a fortune telling machine and got my fortune for the month of November. I'm pretty sure these things would be 50 cents anywhere else, so how could I pass up that kind of deal? The fortune was of course complete crap, but who buys those things for anything other than novelty?

Sadly The Cyclone was closed and I was not able to go on it. But it's a registered historical mark, so it won't be torn down with the rest of Coney Island. I hope it keeps running so I can eventually go on it. I love coasters, how have I never been on the world's most famous one, which was so close to my childhood home? You better believe I'm going to call my parents and accuse them of nothing short of child abuse by never taking me here.

Friday, September 19, 2008

Bushwick House - Brooklyn, NY

Are you aware that the Guggenheim has pay-what-you-wish Friday Nights? I was not! How awesome is that? I went down there with Ceora to see the exhibit: Louise Bourgeois. I had never heard of this woman, but her work is amazing. She's been producing art for almost a century and the Guggenheim had her work set out in chronological order around the spiral.

Ceora and I started from the top, the most recent, because the place was so crowded at the bottom. I would also rather start from the most current and work backwards when it comes to art because it seems so much more logical to me. You can get a sense of how the artist expresses herself now and then see what lead up to it. It just works out better in my head.

Well this woman is amazing. I you happen to be in NY, you should probably make a point of checking her out. It's sculptural, and sexual, and textural and you can tell she has an amazing sense of humor. The whole I was there I was picturing her making these pieces and chuckling to herself. They're incredibly powerful. I couldn't get over how heavy and grounded each piece looked, but they all also had a feeling of being so delicate and quiet.

Anyway, if you can check it out, you should. It's worth your time.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Bushwick House - Brooklyn, NY

I went back to the Metropolitan to see the Goya paintings. Love them, love them, love them! They have more now than they had last time and they took that silly bowl of fruit painting out of the room, which was not a Goya and really didn't go with what was in there. Now it's only Goya in that gallery. I only wish I could see his black paintings and the Third of May again. Someday.

While I was in there, staring, drooling, beside myself, some guy walked up and took a picture of these cats that are in the bottom corner of one of Goya's portraits. Odd. No idea what that was all about, but the guard in that room and I had a silent giggle exchange. After about a million years in the room, I finally left. Don't worry Goya, I'll be back again!

Last night I got into a conversation with someone about how I had never been to Wall St, or seen that damn stock market bull sculpture. She told me that I really needed to get on that, because how could I say I was a native New Yorker, if I had never taken the time to see my own city? Well it's true, but I've never had the time. I do now that I'm not working at the moment. So off to Wall Street with me, with a trip to Battery Park, because I love that park. The southern tip on Manhattan has always been a favorite spot of mine. I love how much history is down there.

Of course the Wall St. area was full of news vans. That area is hurting right now and the media is all over it. I didn't actually see anyone reporting, and other than hoards of people walking around, the area was uneventful. I do love the historic buildings and streets though. I wandered around for a while because I didn't know exactly where the bull was. Finally found it. It's bigger than I thought. And there were tourists taking pictures grabbing its balls. Hm. Figures.

After that I saw a few more memorials in Battery Park and went over to the world trade center. Not much to say. I have a hard time with the juxtaposition of tower wreckage and all the people rushing about like nothing happened. But what could I expect? People still have jobs, they still need to get from point A to point B and that's the nature of NY. It's been 7 years. No one has forgotten, but people get back into the swing of things. I guess if I was down there everyday I would too. But I'm not, so it's still a bit tricky for me.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

SoBro House - Bronx, New York

I spent five hours at the Metropolitan Museum of Art today. Wow. I didn't even get to see everything I wanted to see, so I need to pop back in tomorrow for a bit. I've never been able to see a great deal of what's in there because I never get to go alone and see it all at my own pace. I've been there many, many times, but always with other people, most whom don't want to spend an hour in the arms and armor section. Clearly these people do not know what is good for them.

The day started in true Krysta style. I had a bag of plantain chips in my bag as a snack for later, and a glass Snapple bottle that I use for water. The security guards at the front doors told me that I would have to finish my food outside and I could not bring glass into the museum. Not even if I planned to dump my bag into the bag check. I didn't want to eat my food then, or throw away my water bottle, so I put the food in the front pocket, which no one ever checks (a good thing, considering I usually have my knife in there), and then tried my luck with another security guard. Some people are just hard asses, and I was not about to throw away my food just because one security guard told me to. I picked one that was right in front of the bag check and he let me in without any problems, but told me to check my bag. Logic? What?

In my five hours there I began to have a dilemma. First of all, I'm not so sure it's a good idea to keep works of art all crammed together in a museum. Its hard to appreciate each work as unique when it's right next to another amazing and equally distracting piece of art. I also don't think it reaches as many people of different backgrounds as it should. How many blue collar New Yorkers ever go to the Met? Does a political painting mean the same thing when taken out of its home country? I think maybe part of seeing the work is seeing the place it was painted in and for. Art in context, what a crazy idea!

Don't get me wrong, I love being able to see so many of my favorite pieces of art in one place. I just wonder if the work would have a different affect on me if i was to see it elsewhere. I love seeing Calder and Koons sculptures as I walk around the city. They were made to be put there, so it works somehow. It's an amazing thing to turn a corner and discover a work of art you did not know was there. I think art has changed since museums became such a big deal. I wonder if pop art would have been the same without museums.

My other major issue with museums is the display of burial art. I am quite certain that the people in ancient cultures who spent their lives preparing for death never wanted their urn, sarcophagus, mummy, commissioned art whatever on display in a New York museum. I'm not really comfortable with the idea of someone's remains being made into art without their permission. I struggle with this though, because I understand the need for preservation. If everything was kept buried, some ass would eventually dig it up and exploit it in some way. I also think it's creepy how much value people put into a dead body. The idea that Alexander the Great may have actually had his body entombed in honey to preserve it, is just crazy to me. Nevertheless, I think it is important to honor the wishes of the dead, and I don't think the art world is super concerned with that.

All of the above being said, I had a wonderful and dizzying day of art. I got kicked out of the museum for closing right as I was walking into the Goya room. Curses! Save the best for last, and end up staying past closing time. Goya, I would go to Spain for you, so I guess I can just come back tomorrow. Save Spain for another day. Not sure I'd be able to hitchhike over the ocean anyway.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Nick's Apartment - Reston, VA

One of the things I checked out in DC was the Vietnam Memorial Wall. I've been a little obsessed with this wall since college because I think it is an amazing design. The designer, Maya Ying Lin won an anonymous contest with her idea, while she was still in grad school, and fought to defend her design for years. Many veterans saw it as morbid, or a sign of shame, because it was black.

Being there in person, I never got that feeling. It's quite amazing. You can tell the wall was made for the living, in order to honor the dead because it is such an interactive experience. Seeing myself reflected behind the names, and being able to touch them, changes the idea of the traditional memorial. In most cases, you can not touch a piece of art, but this memorial encourages the visitor to do so.

I admit that I am a bit fixated on memorials in general. I'm not quite sure why I find them so powerful. I know that is what they are supposed to do, but I don't know anyone who ever had cause to be given a memorial. I don't know any of the names on the Vietnam Wall. I don't know anyone who died in the Korean War (another amazing memorial in DC), I don't even know anyone who died in the current war. That doesn't change the fact that these memorials affect me. Perhaps because I value life so much, seeing all those names up there, it didn't matter that I was never connected to anyone up there, it's still such a horrible waste of life. These memorials should serve as a reminder that there is a high price to war and we are still paying it, even as we fight this new one. But I guess the president doesn't make many trips out to his own front lawn to remember any of this.

Monday, September 15, 2008

This trip to Washington DC has been interesting. It's my second time in this city but I still have no idea where I'm going. However, I got to see the two things I really wanted to see and I managed to find a new artist to drool over.

I went there to visit my friend Nick, who you may remember as the person who drove me out to Vermont. He came to visit once over the summer and somehow ended up leaving with my Ace Hardware shirt (AKA the most awesome shirt IN THE WORLD and I know he stole it on purpose because he wishes he could wear it). Of course I had to get it back, and because he refused to send it to me, I had to go down there and get it. Not such a bad idea for someone looking for any excuse to bum around.

The weekend started off by waking up late. I'm not much of a sleeping in kind of person, but I enjoyed a slow morning. The only down side being that Nick does not keep food in his house, and I like to eat breakfast. Men. So we went out and had tapas for lunch. Yummy yummy tapas. With goat cheese. How could I decline goat cheese? Nick will disagree with me here, but tomato and watermelon is a yummy combination. When ordering at a new place, I find it's always best to trust the chef and not make substitutions except in the case of dietary needs. I am never disappointed. They wouldn't put it on the menu if it wasn't yummy.

We then rolled on over to the portrait Gallery. I'm not really into portraits of people who are long dead and I've never heard of, but they had some other cool stuff there as well. There was an artist who does Hip-Hip portraits, which were amazing. And what you will need to do is check out Kehinde Wiley right away. The other person That needs checking out is Nam June Paik who I mistook for Bruce Nauman (who I am madly in love with) at first. I love this guy! How amazing is a florescent map of the USA filled with TVs, each with different movies and images that represent the states?!?!? AH!

We headed over to The Kennedy Center after that for their annual open house. We caught a step show, put on by Step Afrika! the worlds only professional dance group dedicated to step. In all honesty I was not that interested in seeing this show, but once it started it was pretty cool. There were a bunch of college groups performing, and one of them was amazing. I guess when it comes down to it, I'm a sucker for a good show, no matter what's on the stage and these guys were great. I probably wouldn't turn down another free step show if given the chance.

After the step show we went outside to see Chuck Brown, DC's Godfather of Go-Go. It was pretty fun. I love watching old white guys (or just Nick)dance to hip-hop. It made me miss my friends from DTF. They would have rocked out all too happily.

Sunday was a great day. Another late start, but I was able to check two things from my list of "Things to See Before I'm Too Old to Care." One being the National Museum of the American Indian. This isn't normally the kind of thing I would go out of my way to see. I'm interested in various cultures and religions, but not enough to make a special trip.

The reason I wanted to see this place so badly was because of the architecture. So much planning and collaboration went into the building of this museum, that I had to see it. It was Designed by Douglas Cardinal and a team of Native architects from different areas of the Americas. The outside of the building is just as much a work of art as what is inside. We spent some time walking around the building before heading inside, which was just as amazing as the outside. I adore when interior spaces flow into each other, and when you can have a sense of the exterior shape from the interior. What an amazing building. I should have been an architect, or at least a design student. But I say that about everything I'm interested in.

More to come later.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

A few days ago I went down to Moo Shoes with my friend Ceora. I was hoping to find some vegan boots for the winter and not have to pay shipping costs from buying them online. Sadly they didn't have their full winter stock in yet, but they did have my favorite pair of shoes EVER. They are still over $200, which I can not afford, so to stop myself from buying them, I bought these on sale. Because I needed new shoes. For the winter. In Vermont.

Turns out the extra work I did for Keen in Dorset was enough to cover these shoes, so I feel ok about it. I only hope that Moo Shoes has winter boots in before I leave for Vermont. I don't want to buy boots online. Sneakers I can do, but boots I need to try on.

Friday, September 12, 2008

Oh Washington DC. A democratic city, home of a republican president, capitol of the nation, no representation. Funny place.

I'm here in Nick's apartment, which is an interesting place to live indeed. He lives on the 4th floor of an upscale apartment building. As we came up the stairs I giggled at all the red doors with their straw doormats. All the same. Nick told me that the goal was to create apartments modeled after aLevittown. I grew up right near the original Levittown, so this information amused me. These apartments really do seem this way, especially after going inside.

Nick's Apartment is fully furnished, but looks like a hotel room. The carpet is super thick and there is almost nothing on the walls. Generic art hangs above beds and couches. No overhead lights, but there are a few lamps. I opened the fridge this morning out of curiosity and found it empty. The freezer is pretty much the same; a few frozen dinners. However, there is a bottle of tequila in the freezer, so at least he's got that covered. I can even tell where Nick and his roommate always sit on the couches because the cushions there are just sightly dirtier.

Nick says he does not want to make the place more like a home because he hates it here and wants to leave. At least it doesn't look like two single men live here. It mostly looks like no one lives here, so it's clean. And open. And neither welcoming or unwelcoming.

It's probably time for me to get my ass out of the clean part of the couch and explore the area outside of Levittown apartments. Has anyone ever noticed how hotels that have the room entrances on the outside of the building are always nastier than the hotels with entrances on the inside, but that it's the opposite when it comes to apartments?


Thursday, September 11, 2008

SoBro House - Bronx, New York

It is time for the last installment of Dorset pictures. The summer has officially ended and I am back in New York, so I better wrap this up fast.

This is one of my favorite pictures from the summer. Kevin, Slokes, Amanda and I decided to rive to Rutland to go to a porn shop. We had no real motivation for this, other than there was nothing else to do. We drove around for a while, got lost, and decided to ask someone if they knew where this store was. We found these two trashy looking girls at a gas station who were clearly high on something. It turned out that one of them worked at the shop and that it was right down the street but closed. As we walked away one of them yelled out "That boy was gayer than a two dollar bill!" Slokes yelled back "It's queerer!" to which she replied, "Bitch you can't afford me!" Still not really clear on why that happened.

Because the store was closed and we had driven all the way out there, we decided to go bowling instead. Cosmic bowling. Kevin killed us all, but it was a great time. We took many wonderful pictures. Never did get back to that shop, but my guess is that the bowling was more fun anyway.

The ice cream social at Angie's place. Lisa came to visit us and we dragged her out to Angie's and ate ice cream and played with the dog and then tried to get Angie to play psychiatrist, but she wasn't having it. Not sure if that was the best ice cream bar I have ever seen, or the most disgusting. Probably both.

Farmers Market veggies! Jess got a crazy HUGE zucchini, Amanda got a skinny eggplant and I got a small, but rather average looking eggplant. We grilled them outback. Or rather, I grilled them. And I should never be allowed to grill anything. I may or may not have hidden several dropped veggies under the grill. Oops.

And that's that. Dorset. Now I'm killing time until I need to leave for DC, eating some beans and rice, which I put too much salt in. Hoping DC food will be better. Hoping I won't feel so lost once I get out of NY. Being here is always so hard. I never want to leave, but I know I can't stay. Transitioning is so tricky.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Last night I went to see Hair in Central Park. But actually, the day started at 5am, so I'll start from there.

The Public Theatre does free shows in the park over the summer. The shows are staged in an outdoor arena at the Delacourte Theatre, which is next to The Great Lawn in the park. In order to get tickets you must go to the theatre the day of the show and wait in line. The box Office opens at 1pm, but for most shows you need to get there earlier. We planned to get there at 6am (but actually made it by 7), when the park officially opens. There are people who will camp out all night though. Because there is no way of telling how fast the tickets will go, and Hair is THE BEST SHOW EVER, I wanted to make sure I got myself some tickets.

It turns out that it was a rainy day and very people showed up. Had we gotten there at noon we would have gotten tickets. But, the fact that we spent six hours waiting outside the box office that morning, two of them in the rain, proves just how hard core we are. Plus our seats were amazing. 4th row center. Not too close at all, as I worried they would be.

The show was... how do I even start? If I could see it ten more times I would be just as thrilled. It's no secret how much I love Hair. I did do a full victory dance in the living room of Colony House when Amanda informed me that it had been extended and I would be in NY for that time.

The set was made to look like a chunk of Central Park, that is, grass with worn patches. The band was towards the back in a bandstand with a psychedelic tie-dyed roof. And that's it. Because the point of Hair was that the show took what was going on outside on the streets and brought it to the stage. So the actors, in true form, ran bout the theatre, climbing around in the audience and the walls of the theatre itself.

The lights were amazing. I wish I could work one of these shows to really see how it works on a plot. The lights are so far from the stage. And it's outside. And the sun is still kind of setting when the show starts. And ohmygod those lights must be so much fun to hang and focus. There was some use of moving lights, but no overuse. What I thought the designer did in the most amazing way was color. There is a song in the second act where the cast starts singing colors because they are tripping and that designer matched them with the lights. I loved it. I loved it! It seems so logical and easy, but it looks so good. He got the lucid moments and the tripping moments and all the moments that are in between (most of the show). And this might be the first time I actually thought the footlights in a show looked good.

A few songs before intermission it started to rain again. No, no, no, nononononononono NO! The stage manager held the show. And we waited. It got heavier. And then it stopped. I may or may not have started cheering. I find it hard to contain myself sometimes, and really, I don't see why I should. The show continued. I danced in my seat.

It started to rain again during the second act and I cringed. I felt everyone in that theatre, even the actors, waiting for another announcement. But it never came. And when the rain stopped, I knew that it wouldn't start again. And it didn't. They finished the show. After curtain call the cast started pulling people on stage to dance, something I've always been petrified of, but I actually pushed Slokcum up towards the stage and grabbed Katie's hand to make her follow. Crazy dance party on the set of Hair in Central Park!!!! How could I be happier than to see my favorite show with three of my favorite people and then dance it out at the end?

So now I hear that the show is moving to Broadway. I hope it does well enough to stay for a while. It's much more of a summer musical, so I wonder when it will open. I hope I'll be around NY to see it. I hope it reaches people the way it is meant to. It's so hard to tell. I see a show like that and I can't understand how anyone would be underwhelmed. I don't understand how anyone could see that show and not immediately want to change the world. But I guess that's because I go in there wanting to change the world. Maybe it's the knowledge that people before me have done it, and that's what keeps me hopeful.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Five of my good friends have all moved into a three-floor brownstone in The Bronx and I came to New York with them to help them move in. The house is beautiful and spacious and full of character and New York quirk. Admittedly, it makes me question my decision to leave New York. Although I'm not sorry that I left, part of me is sorry to not be coming back and trying again.

I am looking forward to working on the farm in VT. It's a step in the right direction towards accomplishing my goals and realizing my dreams of someday running my own farm. It's bringing me closer to nature and giving me a chance to spend more time outdoors, something I missed living in New York. One of the hardest parts of living in the city, is not being able to lay in grass at night and watch the stars. I'll be able to do that in VT.

This all goes back to how torn I get over all of the places I have lived. I miss the desert mountains and sunsets. I miss the Vermont grass. I miss the excitement and art of New York. I miss the feeling of neighborhoods on Long Island. I miss the local foods of everywhere I have ever lived. Whenever I settle down I end up missing being a free agent and going where ever I want, whenever I want. When I don't live anywhere, I miss having a place to call my own and walls to hang art on, bookcases full of books.

One day I will find a place that is so wonderful it will make it worth giving up pieces of former landscapes and lifestyles.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Today is the last day of Dorset. The summer is over and it's time for the next adventure to start. I can not stress how relieved I am that I changed my mind about coming here. This summer has been one of the best summers of my life, topping even last year. I came here as a complete wreck and I am leaving in a much better place. I won't lie, leaving scares me. I want to keep myself together though and I know that I'm ready. It's time to move on and leave my comfort zone.

To help wrap up the summer, here are a few more pictures that I've been failing to post.

This is Lake St. Catherine. The costume intern's family owns a cute cottage on the lake and we made a day of it over there boating around and dumping each others canoes.

The general store next to our house sells a bumch of fancy wines, and also some pretty interesting cheap ones. Dibs' favorite wine is Pinot Gregio and mine is Chianti and it just so happens that those are the two wines of this brand that the store sells. We made a night of it.

Antiquing anyone? Yeah. No explanation to be given.

Four people in the back of a car to Bob's Diner. It was raining and we all decided to "swim." How amazing is that?

A day spent at the Quarry is not a day to miss. My only regret is that I never did end up jumping off the high cliffs, even though I wanted to, because the day we planned to go we ended up too busy and had no time. Ah well. Another time.