I went for one of my walks last Sunday. After too much good company the previous night I had the mother of all hangovers to burn off. I can’t drink that much anymore, not that I’m complaining. Light but consistent exercise, an improved diet and quality company has me feeling better than I’ve ever been, so a reduction in my biggest vice (beer) is welcome.
I walked to PS1 and yet again seen art that left me thinking about it hours later. I was having a bad time initially with every staff member telling me I was doing something wrong in one way or the other.
Please wear your bag at the front! Please don’t stand there! Please no drinking in the gallery! Please don’t walk that way!
The most embarrassing was walking into an exhibition and sitting in a chair facing a drawing on the wall. As I tried to find its meaning I was told that the chair was actually part of a larger piece. I was kindly told where to take my dullard arse. The Sculpture Center was closed but I caught some new additions to the soon-to-be closed 5Pointz.
As I walked over the Pulaski Bridge I decided to swing by a small coffee shop I heard about in Greenpoint. Upon arriving I liked the look of its neighbor a lot better and decided a change of location was in order. I was glad I did, the little gem I discovered had an entirely empty rear garden for me to enjoy my late lunch in. After an hour or so of draining blood from a stone in search for lyrics I decided the song I was rewriting was going to stay unfinished. I left and walked to my favorite bookstore in the neighborhood with the same stubbornness I always do, that I would only browse. I have failed every time although today’s rather bizarre impulse buy was an expensive mistake. I have no idea what possessed me to buy Do Cool Shit but I did and I’ve not enjoyed reading it. Surprise, surprise.
I slowly ventured south into the bustling neighborhood of Williamsburg and caught the train home. I do these little walks for various reasons, mostly searching for inspiration and ideas (I’m a chronic daydreamer.) I love the city and I find that every time I move a little out of my comfort zone and explore areas further from Astoria, I find another reason to love living here. Discovering a new gallery, coffee shop or bar that allows me to feel apart of, while also detached from the city is a day well spent. Being inside and out. I’m not sure i’m explaining this right but I do know that somehow these little adventures turn up in my music. For this I’m grateful, it gives me a small sense of control over something I always felt was random and unpredictable. No experiences are ever wasted.