storyrainthejournal: (bunny)
Didn't get a lot of pictures in NYC, as it turns out, but here are my faves from the ones I got:



Austin in Brooklyn through a snow/bat/globe

tree in the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens

in the Disney store window...very frightening

storyrainthejournal: (fable)
Everybody's posting so much. What an overwhelming f-list.

Just got back from seeing a matinee of Pan's Labyrinth--absolutely awesome movie. Wonderful. Easily the best movie I have seen in a very long time. I recommend it most sincerely.

It's been lovely being here, very great. I miss my cats at this point, though. And I could use some real downtime before I have to go back to work. My boss just wrote me and told me I could take Tuesday off, too, though, because it's going to be a national day of mourning and a skeleton day at work. Ready for heading home tomorrow afternoon. Yep.

eta: at the moment I'm tired; my fingertip just won't stop throbbing no matter what I do and it's wearing and I think I'm a lazier person than Eliz because she's set to go back out in an hour for dinner, but I really just want to stay here and have dinner and a movie delivered. Not that we can do that, of course, that's just what I want right now.
storyrainthejournal: (contemplative)
Saw an amazing exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum of Art (also walked about the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens some--Eliz works there as an editor in their publications department--so we've been museuming for free this week). The Mueck exhibit was very cool, the extreme realism on all these figures that were otherwise out of scale, too small, too big--gives one a strange and Alice in wonderland feeling. But the exhibit I loved was Tigers of Wrath. These works, in such fine detail, watercolor, guache and ink, on such large scale, with such strange, beautiful, brutal subject matter, were just amazing.

There's been a couple of themes to the things we've seen this week, among them the Ecotopia exhibit at the International Center for Photography, the opera of The First Emperor, and today's exhibits--themes of meticulous research giving way rise and place to dream and wonder, realism that opens into a sense of otherwhere. Some of this is just the way I look at things, of course, but in the writings about some of the works, there've been some remarkably similar quotes speaking to that idea of deep knowledge and realism being the foundation for something more fantastic and unpinnable.

More details, and some pictures, at a later posting. At the moment we have tea and sweets from a Japanese bakery to indulge in, and a movie to watch.

Carry on.

foggish

Dec. 26th, 2006 08:04 am
storyrainthejournal: (onward)
Grey and a little foggy here this morning. Last night, as we walked to the train, we passed a small boy out with his family. While the adults talked on the corner, he was holding up a bag and saying to his other small companion, "I wanna get some rain in here."

Curse of the Golden Flower was beyond gorgeous and I'm glad I saw it, but not one of my favorite stories, and not one I'll see again (like House of Flying Daggers, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, or Spirited Away, say).

Eliz won't be up for hours, probably, so I am amusing myself, happily. The cats seem to think I should feed them, but I've explained that's her job (plus the feeding station is in her room).

Just finished reading Bruce's latest Viridian note, which, aside from a number of edifying links, offers the text of NYC Mayor Bloomberg's recent speech about sustainability for NYC over the next 30 years. A Republican who admits to global warming and its ravages...amazing. It's a pretty great speech, made even better by Bruce's interwoven commentary (he always includes commentary, in triple parentheses). It's  here.
storyrainthejournal: (Default)
Got here in the late morning (well, to Newark) after getting up at the ungodly hour of 3:50 am to get the super shuttle to the airport; slept for most of the plane trip. A quick and easy hook up with Eliz; driving to Brooklyn...well, the urban landscape is very much a part of the landscape of my childhood, so it always feels like home, in all its homeliness.

Lots of tea and talk in the afternoon, then napping, each with a cat curled up beside us. E's cats are Lipsha and Scout. Her place is great, on the fifth floor of an old place in Park Slope; the view of rooftops out the living room windows is, as she says, reminiscent of some Paris views. So I'm just going to refer to it as Paris.

Soon we will eat some dinner (the vegetables are roasting now), then brave the cold and rain to go see Curse of the Golden Flower at Union Square. After the movie, present opening.

Tomorrow, perhaps a museum in the morning; in the evening, the opera! The First Emperor at the Met.

Ah vacation, thy name is New York.

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