and this shall be the new portrait

now i'm sorry for this third picture here on the daily musing... but it seems that the city and i were both a bit sick as of late (as i am typing this early in the AM on monday morning, my roomate, let's just call her "gac-", just mentioned that she too is not feeling on top of the weather... rather she's under it... just like me and the city... though i will spare her pictures and keep to the pictures of me and the city, but i wish her health and well-being nonetheless on this early monday morning.)

 i am not saying this sickness to excuse myself on the lack of musing, for there is no rightly excuse. i shall however, mumble underneath my proverbial typing-fingered-breath that i spend 10-12 hours in front of a computer everyday at work and sometimes i don't have the will power to increase that amount once out of work - but we all know that is kind of a falsity becuase i do it anyway. i do it anyway gosh darn it.

(***side note: i am currently listening to the beethoven "eroica" symphony. the third symphony. as i write this musing. if you've never listenned to a beethoven symphony early in the morning with headphones, i strongly reccomend it. bela bartok once recommended that every composer know the last 7 mozart symphony's in and out... and while i am no bartok, i do recomennd the beethoven symphony's on headphones for any early riser. and also. i notice that my punctuation is a bit silly so far, as well as the three different spellings of recomend (now four). and please get off my back about it. oh my gosh. ok.

to get back to the intent of this musing, i first noticed the ills to the city on my walk to work. i have  a few different routes i travel to work via foot and rail. one of which walks me down a quiet crosby street. and on the corner of said street, i noticed that the city had the same phlegmy problem i have had recently (***another side note: "phlegm" as well as "proctor" are two of my favorite english language words)

here is a photo i took of the city coughing up its phlegm. i told it to gargle saltwater on the behalf of meredith mcglinchey's advice, i can only hope it listenned.


next i noticed that the city must have had the same headache that i had. because it's mind seemed all jumbled and it seemed unable to concentrate to the best of its abilities like myself.


 
jumbled eh? notice also the house of style sign to the right of the focus of the above photo. i quite like this sign. it reminds me of that cindy crawford show on MTV when i was a younger chap that i never watched for more than a few minutes because of the delicate balance of my interest in cindy crawford combatting my boredom with fashion.

anyway, this next picture shows the bridge, no, the link if you will, of my sickness and the city's sickness. for those with a weak stomach or on medication, i warn you that the ensuing imagery might cause you to go "eeek" or "sheesh".



yes folks - thats a bit of my sick throat. i had this photo taken by photographer extraordinaire fiamma in attempts to allow me to see the condition of my internal health. notice the drainage of muccus that is not as clear or as minimal as i would like it to be. also, my large tonsils also have weird red bits on them and i think, though i am not completely sure, that there is some sort of hidden treasure on the left one... there is an "x" that is marking some sort of spot thats for sure. also, the general redness of the back part can't be all that great. and finally, on a positive note, i think there is a neat line of bubbles on the right back wall just above my barely visible protrusion of wisdom tooth. i hope you at least enjoy that part.

on the lighter side of photography. here are three pictures i took of my good friend grace drinker when we went to the MoMA together not too long ago. grace is a funny girl, and she happenned to be wearing a funny jacket that looked extraordinarily similar to a few bits of wall decor at the museum.


this first one is an early pollock. his work is not so important for me visually, but i do like what he did to the art world. if i had to choose however, i am a bit more fond of the work just prior to this period. and i am under the assumption that this period was the bridge just before entering the popular how-do-you-say-in-english "splattered" work we all know.



i like this second work the best out of the three works. i also am fond of grace's ability to pose so similarly to the previos picture.



ok.. thats enough of that.

but to get down to some thoughts i've had as of late.
oh wait... firstly... i just want to mention my fear of the "egg-ball" syndrome occuring in the coffee world. for those of you who never had the experience of eating scrambled eggs i prepare, i admire you. you see, i am no good at making scrambled eggs. i think i am an ok cook, and actually pretty good at a few things like sandwhiches, salad, garden salsa, brownies, lamb-burgers and such... but scrambled eggs and i are no good. though i've tried various techniques such as: adding milk, using a fork to create the proper fluff as opposed to a normal skillet/pan tool, waiting to scramble versus constant agitation of the eggy material, starting with a hot skillet, no remedies seem to work and i always end up with an "egg ball". a spherical mound of yellowish-white that never tastes or feels great in ones throat. anyway, i bring this up because i fear my inabilities in breakfast preparation might also extend themselves to my coffee making. i have been toying with different brewing approaches (drip, french-press and theres-a-fish-in-the-perculator) as well as different types of bean preparation (freshly ground, coarse pre-ground, refrigerated and just sealed tight) and differing brewing times, ground amounts, sugar and milk additives... but all of my coffee comes out less than pleasurable. i hope that when sig finally gets on the ball and adds a comments portion to these writings, some of you readers could grant me worthwhile advice.

in the meantime, the coffee i did make and drink left a sour taste in my mouth and i needed to wash it down with BLUEBERRY MORNING™ cereal. man do i love cereal, i want to eat it all the time, and i find no reason why i can't eat it for 2/3 of my meals here on earth.

at this point in my life, i am creating my personage. by that i mean, i am crafting my lifestyle which i think will probably cement itself into a routine that will harden with old-age. thus, i need to start making very properly minded decisions about how i want to live out this life. sometimes these decisions are large ones like is a steady job and the comforts it provides worth the loss of youthfulness? and sometimes its a relatively simpler question like... if i like cereal so much, why not always have a box handy. and why not let that box always change so i can try new cereals and never tire of the old?

one other thing i want to talk about in this musing is the wondrous non-verbal communication i was able to witness at a less-than-wondrous movie called perfect stranger. now i am a fan of bruce willis moreso than your average joe. i wonder if it's becuase he reminds me of my dad, but either way. he was great in die hard, and real great in breakfast of champions (kvjr rip). on this particular film however, i was more impressed with the audience post the movie, than i was the actor's during it.


 
now we were no duchamps  in there. but darn near close enough. let me describe the event. the movie was long, and i can imagine at least half of the male audience had been suckling at the end of a long straw to ingest various types of soft drinks for the duration of said bad film. so when the last dumb line was said in the film by halle berry, the male audience rose and proceeded to the nearest public urinal. now, i can't speak for every man, but i know when i enter the men's bathroom, i want nothing to do with the others in there. i acknowledge there presence sure, but i don't want to talk or even really look there way. i want to attend to my business and get out with minimal touching of handles, walls and the like. so when i went into this particular bathroom, you can imagine my "wow" when i saw a beautiful act of non-verbal communication transpire to near perfection. picture this, i walk through the few twists and turns to the ever increasing trail of urine smell and am also appreciating the design of the aforementioned twists and turns to negate the need for a door and a gross handle to touch based solely on the twists and turns blocking the view of any non-bathroom-participant and separating the outside world from us... the bathroom-goers. when i make my last of 3, ninety degree turns i see a line established of men awaiting the 4 of the 6 working urinals. the line is off to the right side to allow passage of the post-urine party complete access to the washbasins for their hand cleansing as well as not being so far right so as to have to touch the ceramic wall tile. keep in mind that all of this is transpiring without a single audible word, the only sound you hear is "sssssss" and "<flush>". anyway, i mention that only 4 of the 6 urinals are working becuase this very bit of information is passed down the line of waiters with a single glance, the last person in line never needing to see for himself why the 2 unused urinals are not being utilized... he knows from his predecessors the situation. however, the very second one of the useable urinals is flushed, a zip commences, the prior party exits the urinal wall area stepping two steps backward and proceeding to his right to the wash basin as the on-deck person moves to the still flushing urinal. i watched this transaction go down multiple times seamlessly and we had, i'm sure, an average of no more than 30 seconds per customer at station one. at station two, the wash basin, there were enough sinks and paper towell dispenser's to allow for a quick wash and a shift to the side so that one person could be drying while a new one was washing. and so on. i am not describing the beauty of the situation super well. but i tell you, if the camera crew for discovery channel's planet earth were there, i am sure sigourney weaver would have a lot of neat things to narrate about as we saw a super-slow camera showing every nuance move in there. minimal interraction with maximum communication. it was a sight for sure.

now, this musing was also supposed to talk seriously about some thoughts i've been having about the dangers of balance versus stasis. as well as complacencey versus the lack of struggle and finally the better option of becoming completely invested in something or not at all... and also, the comforts of a profession versus the struggle of a creative being...but such conversations will have to wait as it is soon time for me to be getting ready for another work week. they will come however, they are iminent and sometimes looming. but need to be discussed.

until now, thanks for reading.

Add Comment