Better late than never. Dinner for six tomorrow, so I felt the need to clean, clean, clean.
While loitering this morning out of the rain under the 13-sided structure at the northeast end of Grand Army Plaza entrance to Prospect Park, I realized why I dislike onprospectpark so much. This Richard Meier box looks like it’s made out plastic, the same kind of crappy plastic junk I used to glue together as a kid. Cheap, tinny, and never as advertised on the box. We used to smear the tawdry results with extra glue and light them on fire. Looking at branded architecture like this butt-ugly box, I thought, damn, money sure is wasted on the rich.
Meanwhile, I was waiting for pigs to fly. I had a pork butt on order.
Once the rain let up, I went to the little island to see the Shiva linga paintings at Feature Inc. These images, of Shiva’s symbolic willy, were very poorly hung amidst the white walls of the Chelsea art industrial complex, amidst some colorful junk. Still, these images, devotional, anonymous, recycled, were pretty cool. The phallic is quite vaginal in this iconography. My next destination turned out to be a red herring, submariner Duke Riley’s After the Battle of Brooklyn, but it doesn’t open until November. But by then, there was blue sky over Jersey. And down West 28th I saw this petite Sacre Coeur on the Other side. Invigorated by the S.S. Starret-Lehigh and the Terminal Warehouses, I walked downtown, passing Gehry’s Iceberg (man, that guy is whored out), and then stumbled on this guy’s studio. Good wood. One of the pieces was a life size nude: wood makes a remarkably fantastic ass.
I couldn’t get enough of the sun, so I wandered around Columbia Street, and on Warren on the way back, I watched a pigeon fancier work his or her birds. In the low sunlight, these carriers whirled and whirled, white, black, umber, a beautiful choreography. I couldn’t see the conductor, who was on the roof, but I saw the long pole with streamers that he or she waved to stir them up and call them from their perch on the old hospital.