Look with your eyes, not with your hands.


Such a minute fraction of this life do we live: so much is sleep, tooth-brushing, waiting for mail, for metamorphosis, for those sudden moments of incandescence: unexpected, but once one knows them, one can live life in the light of their past and the hope of their future.



A grad student muses on her life, film, friends, politics, reality televizzle, and music.

 
The Junction.

Today was a wasted and hot day. I found myself with time to spare this morning - sitting down in Grand Central with my coffee and my tasty treat from the French bakery John and I frequented so many times last summer. I read a chapter from my curator's forthcoming book - about "hacktivism" - political activists that further their causes through (often devious) web projects. Well written and clear, original examples - it was a great use of time and jogged the brain.

Since my train got in around 8:30 and I didn't have to meet the intern crew at 11 (to go to AMMI - again, I am starting to hate Queens and there's only so much movie ephemra one wants to see) I had spare time on my hand. From Grand Central I re-created my walk from last summer - down Park Avenue, to 5th and the soaring Midtown Art Deco buildings. By the time I reached 53rd St (the old MoMA stomping ground) (but first pausing in front of the David Byrne art commission across Saks 5th Ave) Well, I found myself at a junction - somewhere between Midtown and SoHo and realizing that I am more MoMA and more Midtown than I will ever be Gugg.

Granted that the tourists around 5th Ave are awful - in their sneakers, hip packs, and toting little bags from Tiffany's filled with unoriginal heart-charm bracelets. But there's a sincerity in tourists and they don't try to disguise it. This morning I passed the multi-story H&M and saw a crowd of them lined up outside for the 9am opening. People in SoHo seem phony or full of themselves - and whereas they might not be as miserable & style-less as the hordes of out of town 5th Ave shoppers - they aren't sincere at all. My definition of sincere is not having to buy a $3 bagel at Dean and Deluca in the morning. But on this little walk today - I realized how much better I fit into MoMA or how much more "myself" I felt in Midtown. Men in SoHo don't have the gray flannel suits or pinstripes, or custom made oxford shirts, or Emmett Watson's fear of "euro trash" - women don't have the bags or the sculptural shoes that by just walking on a dirty sidewalk, one is committing a mortal sin. People in Midtown carry stuff, they have messenger bags with Investment Banking firm logos circa 1987, and they even carry their old, re-used shopping bags from expensive boutiques. There's a charm to it - and maybe if nothing else, I get the feeling that these people have visible baggage - that they tote because they need. But at least they work and they deserve the fruits of their labor. The people in SoHo, those who waltz in after 10am in flipflops... eating a $3 bagel - well, they seem like the clueless children of the wealthy, those who have this money, have no idea what it means or how their father earned it, and have no concept of value. I don't know why I am in such a mood to rag on the Downtowners tonight, but SoHo is a lot of things, it just isn't prestigious or classy.

I was writing an email the other day and reflecting about the year of life I just had, like from last June until now. Highlights from the year aren't very dramatic but they were just about the most important in recent memory. During that time I really went from being a Middlebury student to something else resembling, dare I admit it, an adult. I took on New York and found my own way through the big City, and I did it smiling and with friends along the way. I found some academic niches that were just barely out of reach for the first part of college, and I be-friended a lot of incredible adults that seem to side-step a lot of the drama associated with selfish kids on the verge of 20.

Where do you learn this stuff? Well, I have been lucky enough to be presented with great teachers at a point in my life where distractions and infatuations receded. But more so, there is an amazing communicative ability of accepted norms. From about 6th grade forward, you realize that it's sink or swim and to be accepted by the cool kids, you need to play by their rules. (this doesn't negate being an individual) it just means that [put broadly] people in certain places do certain things - they talk about the same things, do the same things with their free time, admire similar traits in people, and even yes, dress the part they envision themselves playing - but they do these things because this the way they see themselves. I think maybe I have found my crowd (defined equally as loosely as the people in my life in the past year) and I am very glad to join up our conversations, in our favorite places, over my favorite gin & diet tonic water.
posted by lmjasinski at 10:25 PM