TAGG, You're It!...

If you're a gay man who enjoys $120 tank tops, then TAGG is awesome. For everyone else, not so much. But they did throw a fun party with free booze, and tunes spun by a talented up and comer, someone I may have mentioned once or twice before- one DJ BennyK... aka Punky... aka Ben... aka the baddest bitch in NYC. I know the boys hate fruitflies being in the bars and clubs, and I don't necessarily blame then. Believe me, being the only girl in a room full of horny queens it's not my scene. My scene generally involves vagabonding , and really nerdy activities like playing Scrabble or watching a documentary.  I'm simply amidst the hedonistic debauchery to support my boy. And if DJ BennyK can make this girl dance her nerdy ass off,  then the asses belonging to all you cool NYC club kids will be blown to high heaven. Pun intended. So for all the gay boys in NYC, if you see us amongst you, don't be bitchy queens to your devoted fruitflies. Be nice. Say hi. Blow fog in my mouth. I'm dorky, but I've never met a gay boy who didn't love me. And to the old drunk dude who is from Utah, but who is not Mormon, who was once married with kids, but who now dreams of owning a gay oriented retail store with naked boys dancing in the window, and who inexplicably tried to make out with me- get yourself together, man! Then, once you do, come on over and say hi. I won't hold your indiscretions against you because I have a soft spot for train wrecks. We've all been there. I always say, if you haven't had a nervous breakdown, you haven't lived.

DJ BennyK continues to make a name for himself in NYC, spinning at so many hotspots that my blog posts can't keep up. Here he is bringing down the house at Bar 13, a multi-tiered club that draws an eclectic crowd of friendly and open-minded characters. Go and visit Paul, the precious bartender, who will carry you merrily into the wee hours. Be sure to compliment him for being so majestic, and thank him by throwing your almighty dollars his way. He deserves it. Congrats to Nathan Kelly and Chris Ryan for hiring a badass DJ, for throwing a badass party, and for generously treating me to free drinks all night. A special thanks to Paola, Ann, and Chris for a hilariously dramatic experience in the loo straight out of a Lynch film, to sweet Jason who knew in his heart that I was neither a lesbian nor white and who came to chat with me to apparently prove it to the rest of the bar, to Karma LiLoLa for being bold, beautiful, and the spiciest girl of them all, to Jon for sporting the coolest t-shirt of the night, to Roland for simply being his amazing self, to DJ Robertox for his mouth to mouth fog antics, and of course to the incomparable DJ BennyK for making me forget all about the rooftop smores and for keeping me on the dance floor. When a girl looks up and realizes she is dancing aside a zombie and a drag queen, gratitude for this beloved city is further instilled into her heart. Enjoy my little vid:

Check out DJ BennyK's latest podcast:

DJ BennyK PodOmatic

"Thru the rhythm of darkened times/ Painted black by knowledge crimes/ And repetitions pointless mime/ Instilling values the sick define/ That keeps the fabric that keeps you blind/ And ties your hands and cloaks your mind/ But on my stilts, I'm above the slime/ Come on up if you can make the climb, but who am I?/ Who am I? Who am I?" --13th Floor Elevators, Thru the Rhythm

 

Merry Ferry To Throwback Isle...

The inscribed tree stump above was the coolest thing I stumbled upon while traversing Governors Island, which is a hop, skip, jump, and a free ferry ride away from Manhattan. On the Lt. Samuel S. Coursen we saluted Lady Liberty as we merrily merrily merrily merrily glided across the bay. And five minutes later, we landed in 1965. As idyllic as the island appears, and it is indeed a peaceful throwback to a supposedly simpler time, I also found it a rather eerie place. Its rows of big uninhabited houses, its 18th century monuments reeking of secrets and depravity, and its expansive, isolating grounds would be a superlative setting for a horror film. It's also strangely remote considering that it's only half a mile across the harbor from one of the most densely populated areas in the world. Governors Island has a fascinating military history, having been used as an Army post from 1783-1966, and as a Coast Guard installation from 1966-1996. Prior to that, and prior to being stolen by the Dutch and the British, the land of course belonged to the Native Americans and was known as Pagganck (aka Nut Island). The northern end opened to the public in 2003 after being redeveloped as parkland and a historical/cultural/educational/ destination. Many New Yorkers looking to escape the city for a day, as well as lots of tourists, can be found picnicking, cycling the perimeter, taking in the public art, exploring Castle Williams and Fort Jay, wandering around the sculpture garden, poking their noses in abandoned homes, and simply basking in the glow of the land that time forgot.

Here's a video I made of my trip. A warning to those who are prone to motion sickness- it's a bumpy ride!

I definitely missed the 'bring your bicycle' memo.

I remember very clearly watching and loving old Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour reruns on Nick at Nite as a young girl, so it was a pleasant surprise to learn that the dynamic duo was actually born on Governors Island, where their father, an army officer, was stationed. Who knows if I actually grasped the satirical humor of the show as a kid, but watching clips of the show today,  I can easily understand why it was considered so groundbreaking. Its influence on the political comics of today is palpable.  The show was comprised of incredible musical guests (The Beatles, Tina Turner, The Who, The Doors, Ray Charles etc...), great writing (Steve Martin, Rob Reiner, Don Novello), biting political commentary (Pat Paulsen), and the hilarious blend of folk singing and standup comedy by the stars of the show. The brilliant documentary, Smothered: The Censorship Struggles of the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour (2002), depicts the ongoing conflicts with and subsequent cancellation by CBS (with heavy pressure from Nixon's administration) in 1969 for satirizing America's involvement in the Vietnam War amongst other controversial topics. In a strange rehashing of events, the Bush administration gets Bill Maher kicked off of ABC 40+ years later for also pointing out the obvious.  A piece of pop culture history at its finest:

"Little bird up in a tree/ Looked down and sang a song to me/ Of how it began" --The Beach Boys, Little Bird

Sunday In The Park With...

Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village is a lovely place to spend an afternoon. I always have a book with me, but the sights and sounds at the park are so distracting that I usually end up people watching and listening to the ever present bands and musicians around the main fountain instead of reading. The 'Crazy Piano Guy' as he is known, is Colin Huggins, a Georgia native who found success in NYC as a ballet accompanist for Joffrey and and the American Ballet Theatre. Those are impressive credits. But apparently that type of success wasn't very satisfying for Mr. Huggins, who decided that he would rather push various types of pianos all over Manhattan and play amongst the people. And that is exactly what he has been doing for about five years now. So on your next visit to NYC, keep an eye out for this awesome character. There's no telling where he and his piano might be. Here's my homage to French New Wave:

 

On the other side of the fountain another band was jammin'. Unfortunately I didn't get their story or even their name, but I really enjoyed their tunes:

The Washington Square Arch was modeled after the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, which is pictured below. The WSA was erected in 1889 in celebration of the centennial of George Washington's inauguration as president. It was made of plaster and wood until 1892 when the more permanent marble arch was designed by architect Stanford White and subsequently erected.

Since the 1940's Washington Square Park has been a hub for many artists, writers, and activists. In the 1950's and 60's it became the heart of the folk music scene, the hippie movement, and the beat generation, with professional musicians such as Buddy Holly, Joan Baez, David Bennett Cohen, Dave Von Ronk, and Bob Dylan hanging out and playing alongside amateur musicians. In 1961, the parks commissioner decided that the park should be peaceful and quiet and ordered a ban on Sunday folk performances. This was also an attempt to rid the park of "undesirables" and "degenerates" by removing “the roving troubadours and their followers.”  Hundreds of musicians gathered in protest, a demonstration which was organized by Izzy Young, director of the Folklore Center on MacDougal Street, a few blocks away from the park.The cops showed up, madness ensued, and newspapers the following day christened the event The Beatnik Riot and The Washington Square Folk Riot.

 Eventually the ban was lifted after more protests followed and a 1,500 person petition was signed. And to this day, Washington Square Park continues building on its legacy as a cultural and political epicenter hosting buskers of every musical genre, rallies, performance artists, music festivals, film screenings, and art showings.

There isn't much documentation on that day save for Dan Drasin's  20 minute documentary, Sunday. This year marks its 51st anniversary. Best line in the short film goes to Izzy Young: "I have everybody singing 'The Star-Spangled Banner. I said, 'They can't hit us on the head while we're doing that.'" The cops waited patiently until after they were done singing to start hitting people on the head. It's quite a moving scene:

 

"I need pull myself out of the hole I've been digging/ Better make something of myself because my time is ticking " --Washington Square Park, No Medication

Wlliamsburg Waterfront Way...

These are the awesome views of the Manhattan skyline and the Williamsburg Bridge from East River State Park and Northside Piers Park in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. The East River State Park itself, not much more than concrete slabs and a few picnic tables, is nothing to write home about, but the view it offers is stunning, even on a grey and cloudy day such as today. Though there was barely any sign of life at the park on this dreary spring day, apparently the park is a happening place during the summer, hosting free concerts, films, and parties. And obviously, they had me at 'free.' I also hear there is a rockin flea market around here on Sundays, yet another thing that is right up my alley. Summer is just around the corner so I look forward to revisiting the Williamsburg Waterfront during a more festive occasion.


"And you can stand/ On the arms/ Of the Williamsburg Bridge/ Crying/ Hey man, well this is Babylon" --Soul Coughing, True Dreams of Wichita

Moment of Geek...

The best new thing in the world today is the book, Drift, by the beautiful and inspiring Rachel Maddow, who is far and away the best political pundit in mainstream news. Aside from Jack White, Rachel Maddow is my only other celebrity crush *swoon* and I am happy to report that she is just as dreamy in person as she is on tv. Had Rachel gazed into my eyes from across the room, swore away her partner of a decade, and declared love for me at first sight, I would have immediately become a lesbian. Unfortunately, that didn't happen, but I did tell her she was the biggest bad ass around and she seemed very amused by that, slightly blushing and giggling  in that precious way she is known to do. You think she'd be used to all the flattery by now.

Maddow walked up onto the stage at Barnes and Noble Union Square to thunderous applause and wild exuberance. Looking visibly nervous and surprised, she asked "Is this normal?" I've been to a lot of book discussions/signings in the city and I can answer definitively that this was not, in fact, normal. This was more like a gig than a literary event.  Rachel is a rock star. And we were her groupies. The entire top floor of  the book store was packed with fans as obsessive as myself. I became fast friends with the guy sitting next to me. We lamented, and consoled each other over the fact that we would not be allowed to hug Rachel.

And why are we so enamored with Ms. Maddow? The Oxford-educated Rhodes scholar is undoubtedly brilliant, yet she manages to exhibit her brilliance in a remarkably unpretentious manner. That's rare for anyone in this world, but it's especially unique given the circus of vainglorious windbags she is amongst in cable news. As a respectful polemicist, who engages in debates with the utmost civility, and allows those in disagreement a fair opportunity to argue their side, Maddow puts all the other narcissistic blowhard pundits to shame. And her signature use of humor, interesting anecdotes, and little-known facts to set up and present information is compelling and entertaining. I find that she often has a unique perspective on issues, that she offers critical insights not presented by any other media sources. It is telling that so many invited guests decline repeated offers to appear on her show, in spite of Ms. Maddow's reputation for being fair and courteous. That is a testament to her brilliance, and to their fears and insecurities. These people know they are no match for sharp shooter Rachel Maddow!

Above all, Ms. Maddow just seems like a genuine human being, one who shares her love of dogs, comic books, fishing, and classic cocktails; one who is playful and geeky, yet serious and determined; one who unabashedly lets out her inner fangirl and gushes over the likes of Metallica's iconic drummer Lars Ulrich, and then one who is able to refocus that enthusiasm into a hard-hitting takedown of the Koch brothers. That she does not conform to the traditional standards of beauty makes her that much more appealing. She is such an amazing ambassador for women in a society starving for strong and respectable female public figures, and in a society drowning in Disney princesses, in female reality stars who promote stupidity as entertainment, and in attempts by the women of the religious right and the GOP to destroy feminist policy.

The only way the event could have been better is if Rachel had mixed cocktails for the audience. I would have also loved to get a pic with her, but understandably it wasn't allowed as there were just too many fans in attendance, and Barnes and Noble would have had to stay open all night long to accommodate such requests. Maddow did commit to signing everyone's books which was very generous. She probably developed carpal tunnel syndrome as a result.

At one point, a lady in the audience asked Maddow when she was going to run for office. The entire audience erupted in cheers. Maddow seemed flattered, but horrified by the thought. I'd vote for her.

Someone sitting close enough managed to take a great video of the event. No doubt they arrived at least two hours prior to claim their seat. I arrived an hour prior and managed to get a seat towards the middle which was actually pretty far back. But there were many who weren't so lucky. It was standing-room only with hordes of people packed all the way back in Timbuktu. Here she is talking about her book Drift, which analyzes our country's drift towards a state of perpetual war and the resulting destruction of this state upon our democracy:

And here is the famous cocktail enthusiast showing us how to make a Jack Rose:

This guy might love Rachel as much as I do:

I think this guy is also part of the I heart Rachel fanclub:

And a really brilliant tribute from the folks at New York Theatre Barn:

I totally lied when I said that Jack White and Rachel Maddow are my only celebrity crushes. Rounding out my top five are Conan O'Brien, Lisa Bonet, and....hmmmm..... fifth spot is a tough one. I'll have to think about that. Which five celebrities are on your laminated list?

"Three times I made sergeant/ I’m not that kind of man/ And pretty much just as quick as I could/ I get busted back to private again/ Cause takin’ orders never suited me/ Giving them out was much worse/ I could not stand to get my friends killed/ So I took care of myself first/ Now I know that don’t sound right/ Don’t think too bad of me/ Now it keeps me up nights/ What I could have done differently" --Lucero, The War

Spring Awakening...

Just a short jaunt from my apartment is the Conservatory Garden, a place of such beauty that you just want to sit and stare. Immediately upon entering the black iron Vanderbilt Gate (which was made in Paris in 1894), you are greeted by an exuberance of crabapple trees bursting in pink and white hues. They line the main Italian-style garden, and lead up to a fountain erupting with gusto and an incredible pergola covered in wisteria. The pathways behind the rows of  crabapple trees lead to two other gardens, one English-style, one French-style, featuring lovely fountains and beds upon beds of gorgeous flowers. I was especially enamored with the tulips.

A great environmental film (or films I should say) that does not involve Al Gore, is Godfrey Reggio's Qatsi Trilogy. The first is the 1983 cult flick Koyaanisqatsi, which is a Hopi Indian word meaning "life out of balance."  Five years later came Powaqqatsi, Hopi for "parasitic way of life" or "life in transition." The final film, Naqoyqatsi, Hopi for "life as war," was not released until 2002. There is something here for everyone. Whether you are a stoner, a philosopher, an environmentalist, a spiritualist, a poet, or simply a cinephile, your socks will be rocked off by the imagery.  All of the films explore the relationship between technology and the environment, with each film depicting different cultures. And this is done without dialogue or narration, only through visuals and music. The film is scored by Philip Glass, one of those composers people tend to either love or hate. I think he's brilliant and this score is mind-bendingly beautiful. If you're in the mood for an epic journey, give it a go.

"So Spring is in her belly/ It's sprouted in her soul/ And no one had to tell us/ We did just know/ And know life seems a little more, somehow/ Meaningful/ And I looked at her like I always do and I see/ Beautiful" --John Butler Trio, Spring

Welcome To The Occupation...

Since I have accumulated so many Occupy Wall Street pics over the last six months, I decided to make a video. Ch ch ch check it out:

At the end of the video there is a man in a police uniform holding up a sign encouraging people who don't understand what OWS is about to watch the film Inside Job. That man is retired Philadelphia police captain Ray Lewis, an avid occupier. In November the chief was arrested in full uniform at an OWS demonstration for holding up a sign that read 'NYPD don't be Wall St. mercenaries.' If you haven't seen the documentary Inside Job I highly recommend it.

“Civil disobedience is not our problem. Our problem is civil obedience. Our problem is that people all over the world have obeyed the dictates of leaders…and millions have been killed because of this obedience…Our problem is that people are obedient allover the world in the face of poverty and starvation and stupidity, and war, and cruelty. Our problem is that people are obedient while the jails are full of petty thieves… (and) the grand thieves are running the country. That’s our problem.” -- Howard Zinn

A Pool Of Clear Water Where The Light Plays...

How amazing is it that I met Gloria Steinem and Jeanette Winterson in the same week? I love NYC.  My sister introduced me to Winterson's work fourteen years ago, passing on to me her copy of Written on the Body. Quite possibly it remains my favorite of Winterson's novels, although I don't really believe in having favorites. Winterson writes very personal, poetic prose that is erupting with passion and energy. She plays with narrative structures, and combines myth, history, and fiction. It is her distinctive style .

Ms. Winterson reminded me very much of one of my theatre instructors in college, Susan Balentine. They have similar hairstyles, mannerisms, speech and breath patterns, and auras. They are also both very small women who exhibit immense intensity. They walk with purpose. And they both look at you intently when they are speaking with you in the way people who are generous with their time and attention do. They both like to laugh and smile, radiating positivity, while simultaneously, and clearly, masking a deep pain. And they both like the stage.

I had to ask Winterson if she was a football fan knowing that she was from Manchester. Her answer was, "No, because then I'd have to support Rooney," which was hilarious, and exactly the type of thing I'd say. I offered that most people born and bred in Manchester actually support City not United, but she didn't seem that interested, until she asked me who I supported and I answered Liverpool. That was a trigger and she let out a playful "grrrrrr." Although ManU and LFC have a legendary rivalry, the cities themselves have a rivalry that goes back to the 1800's. I think this is something ingrained into the hearts and minds of Mancunians and Liverpudlians alike, as mention of their rival cities tend to automatically result in negative reactions. I made sure to end on a good note by telling her that I loved Manchester when I visited, and that aside from producing a great writer, it has produced lots of great bands.

Winterson's new memoir, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?, details the tumultuous upbringing that gave rise to her voice. She was adopted as an infant by a Pentecostal couple who did not allow her to read, and she spent her formative years evangelizing on the streets, and in poverty. At sixteen she left home after being kicked out of the church for falling in love with a woman. She eventually made her way to Oxford University, and then she continued the long journey in search of identity, love, home, and belonging. Here is Jeanette Winterson reading a passage from her new memoir in her mellifluous, Mancunian voice:

Winterson's first novel Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit, was published in 1985 to much acclaim. In 1990, Winterson adapted the autobiographical story into a screenplay, which was produced as a three episode tv series by the BBC. The series stands alone as a strong work, but it does have marked differences from the book, leaving out controversial relationships, as well as difficult to adapt sequences:

"Over the moor, take me to the moor / Dig a shallow grave / And I'll lay me down/ Lesley-Anne, with your pretty white beads / Oh John, you'll never be a man / And you'll never see your home again / Oh Manchester, so much to answer for" --The Smiths, Suffer Little Children

Everyday Rebellions...

Yours truly with Gloria Steinam

The event poster

Victor Navasky, Gloria Steinam, and Colum McCann signing books

Sue Leonard

So there was a book discussion at Barnes and Noble for John Leonard's Reading For My Life, which is a collection of essays by the late critic. I am slightly embarrassed to say that at the time I had no clue who John Leonard was; I am not at all embarrassed to say that I attended the event solely because I saw that Gloria Steinem would be on the panel, and that I just had to meet her. How often does one get to shake the hand of a feminist icon and tell her thank you? I'm beginning to grasp more and more the amazing opportunities this city presents. As a national spokeswoman for the Women’s Liberation Movement and for reproductive rights, and as the creator of leading feminist publication Ms. Magazine, and as a journalist who initiated her career by working as an undercover 'bunny' at the Playboy Club and writing a scorching exposé of her experience, and as a prominent figure at rallies for social justice and gender and racial equality, and as the leader of the Women’s Strike for Equality march, and as co-founder of the National Women’s Political Caucus, the Ms. Foundation for Women, Choice USA, the Women’s Media Center and the Coalition of Labor Union Women, and as the author of several significant books, Ms. Steinem is without a doubt, one of the most influential people of the twentieth century. And there she was sitting before me, 77 years old, and still fighting the good fight. I couldn't take my eyes off of her throughout the entire discussion. I was lost in thoughts about her legacy, about  where my generation of women would be without Ms. Steinem and Susan B. Anthony and Betty Friedan and Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Sojourner Truth and the hundreds of other feminist activists, and I considered my place in this third wave of feminism. At one point in time towards the end of the evening,  when everyone was up and mingling, Ms. Steinem looked up past the person she was speaking with, looked directly at me, smiled, waved, and asked me how I was as if I was an old acquaintance she hadn't seen in a while. It was odd. I looked around and behind me to make sure that it was in fact directed at me, and it was. Maybe she thought she knew me. Or maybe she just felt my eyes burning holes into her skull and wanted to break the creepy tension. 

I waited patiently for the crowd to disperse. I had every intention of engaging Ms. Steinem in a conversation about the current state of war on women's rights, about the short term and long term feminist agenda, and about personal responsibility in feminism. I saw my window and began to walk towards her. Suddenly beads of sweat came over me, and I began to shake with nervousness. As I approached her, nothing even remotely intelligent came out of my mouth. I think I just told her that it was an honor to meet her and stared at her awkwardly. EPIC FAIL!

I can't think of many documentary films about feminism, which is quite sad really. I should get on that and make one myself! I did overhear Ms. Steinem say that she lived near Hunter College on the Upper East Side, which is only about two miles from my place. HBO produced a documentary last year entitled, Gloria: In Her Own Words. It's entertaining and informative, but it's only an hour long and really quite superficial in its 'exploration' of the woman, and of the movement.

Although I didn't know anything about Mr. Leonard prior to this event, I subsequently fell in love with the man.  His many achievements are too lengthy to detail here, but I will offer a brief introduction. He was known to have read over 13,000 books in his lifetime, he wrote for pretty much every major media outlet from newspapers and magazines to radio and tv shows, and he was co-literary editor of The Nation with his wife, Sue Leonard. He reviewed the most acclaimed writers of his time, including Salman Rushdie,Thomas Pynchon, and Gabriel Garcia Marquez, all of whom held him in high esteem. The great Kurt Vonnegut even referred to him as "the smartest man who ever lived." There were several female authors in the audience who stood up and very emotionally credited him for their (successful) careers. He was a champion for women writers and for writers of color, promoting Maxine Hong Kingston and Mary Gordon amongst many others. Apparently, he championed Toni Morrison’s work so fervently that she requested he be present with her in Stockholm when she accepted her Nobel Prize. Ms. Steinem defined Leonard as a staunch feminist, but one that "you didn't have to ask or thank," which I think implied that his being an advocate for social justice and for the women's movement was not a choice he made, it was simply intrinsic to his being, and that he demonstrated that throughout his life and work without fanfare and without expectation of recognition.  I thought it was a wonderfully descriptive phrase that Ms. Steinem used, and incredibly complimentary.  His wife, Sue, and his children, who were all present at the event, humanized him with stories about how much he loved television, particularly VH1, and all things related to pop-culture. He was not only a prolific literary critic, he was a passionate reviewer of films and tv shows, as well as a social and political commentator. As you'll see in this obituary, John Leonard had a reverence for, and a mastery of language:

Ms. Steinem relayed a charming story about her first experience with Leonard, which occurred in 1968, while they were both members of the War Resisters League. In protest of the Vietnam war, the group refrained from paying the part of their taxes that went to the war effort. She described how rebellious, idealistic, and empowered they felt, how they were certain that this plan would help instigate radical change, and how they were certain that their action would pose such a threat that the government would come after them and cart them off to prison. The punch line of course being that absolutely nothing happened; the government had simply taken the remaining debt directly from their bank accounts.

"And since we all came from a woman/ Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman/ I wonder why we take from our women/ Why we rape our women, do we hate our women?/ I think it's time to kill for our women/ Time to heal our women, be real to our women/ And if we don't we'll have a race of babies/ That will hate the ladies, that make the babies/ And since a man can't make one/ He has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one / So will the real men get up/ I know you're fed up ladies, but keep your head up" --Tupac Shakur, Keep Ya Head Up

Éirinn go Brách...

No Man Is An Island, But This Woman Is...

The Metropolitan Museum of Art

Slit Gong (Atingting kon)- musical instruments

Asmat "bis" poles- used to honor the dead, and as a reminder to avenge the dead

A ceremonial house ceiling from the Kwoma people up top

One of my favorite galleries at The Met is the Oceania room, specifically, the Melanesia section (my namesake yay!), which includes works from New Guinea and Island Melanesia. Since I've always had a strange obsession with all things wooden- homes, furniture, jewelry, art, bicycles, shoes, and of course, trees themselves- entering this room is like dying and going to wood heaven (insert lame Jesus-was-a-carpenter joke here). The dimly-lit, quiet space gives off an enigmatic yet tranquil vibe. I love sitting on the bench in from of the towering phallic bis poles and soaking up the energy. 

 Generally my mind wonders off in thoughts of Jared Diamond’s Guns, Germs, and Steel, an ambitious book that traces the development of the modern world over the course of the last 13,000 years. It was inspired by the author's Papua New Guinean friend who questioned inequality in the world, and who wondered why and how it was that Europeans were the ones to conquer it. Diamond, an evolutionary biologist, forms his theories on geographical and environmental evidence, as opposed to biological or cultural factors. It's a riveting read!

A great PBS documentary based on the book was made in 2005:

And speaking of my wood obsession (insert dirty joke hear) check out these amazing eye glasses! I want a pair!  

Urban Spectacles

 "One breath away from mother Oceania/ Your nimble feet make prints in my sands/ You have done good for yourselves/ Since you left my wet embrace/ And crawled ashore/ Every boy, is a snake is a lily/ Every pearl is a lynx, is a girl/ Sweet like harmony made into flesh/ You dance by my side/ Children sublime/ You show me continents/ I see islands/ You count the centuries/ I blink my eyes/ Hawks and sparrows race in my waters/ Stingrays are floating/ Across the sky/ Little ones, my sons and my daughters/ Your sweat is salty/ I am why/ I am why" --Bjork, Oceania