It's that TIME again

It's Boston time again... or as they say, "return to the womb" time, or "scene of the crime," or "Memories light the corners of my mind..." or "I have nothing better to do for New Year's, so I go back to whence I came, get to hug my favorite dog and hang with my best friend."
Yes, that's it-- not bad at all.

But before I get there, can anything be better or more relaxing than a Saturday morning with my valuable time spent on the Fung WAAAHHHH?
I think NOT.

(photo credit Boston Josh on Bostonist.com)

Memories abound... from the time we crashed at the corner of Chrystie and Grand, to the time my purse was stolen with all my ID, credit cards and checkbook-- nothing beats $20 round-trip-- NUTHIN.

And on top of it, you get Mickey D's on the way... COULD I ask for anything more?

All they can do is charge the driver with a D.W.C. (DRIVING WHILE CHINESE) violation-- (pc people, please do not be offended, this bad joke came from a Chinese person)

In the meantime, today I've spent a good deal of time reading up on Fred Sandback -- such a true artist in every sense of the word who had an amazing ability to alter space, time and common perceptions of reality.

(photo credit from garvinpr on Flickr of a Paula Cooper Gallery show)

Upon my visit to Dia back in September with Senor Lendvai, I found his work more than any other-- (sorry old bag Louise Bourgeois... even Donald Judd and Richard Sera)-- NOTHING touched me more than seeing such pure simplicity take hold of a space in its entirety.

I felt like Marcel Marceau at one point, doing hand mime-work all along the works, face to face with my then boyfriend, fully expecting at any point for a time-portal to open up and spin us into an alternate universe.

Just stunning stuff.

I'm looking into starting some big courses in the New Year-- whether at SVA Continuing Ed., or at the Art Students League.

Today's MSN horoscope said by April I am to be doing my hobby, by summer having income from said hobby, and by December of 2007 be FULLY SELF-SUFFICIENT WITH $$$ FUNDS COMING FROM MY "hobby."

Now, mind you, it might end up being art criticism, or blogging, or pontificating or whatnot that eventually earns me my way to the forum, but until then I think I'll still show up to work each day.

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!
ENJOY YOUR DAY!

Lamgelina Oly

Don't touch my bag, Watusi... uh... Cabriolet

Yes, those words were spoken by a fellow subway passenger this morning to a passerby after she brushed her bag lady bag.

You COULD say "Only in New York, kids," but it wouldn't even BEGIN to do it justice.

There's simply no WAY I could ever beat that in a lifetime of word combinations.

Just magical.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cabriolet

http://www.streetswing.com/histmain/z3watusi.htm

And how was your Christmas

So today is the day after XMas, or as I like to call it, day after the day of the Village Nursing Home visit-- Manhattan West Village version.

It's not often one gets to the West Village for much of anything-- well, "one," meaning Me, Myself, and I.

Call it a transportation problem, or getting too caught up into life/work/issues problem, but it was just a fabulous day in all.

Never did I expect to meet Roz and Anne-- two very great septugenarians I bonded with over the New York Times and L'Occitane lotion set (respectively).

Roz had the best smile ever-- had recently come out of a medically induced coma-- and really was a great person to talk with. She was content reading the "'Times" from front to back-- and we talked of her growing up Jewish and part Italian. (Crown Heights, Brooklyn representing)

Anne reminds me of Gwyneth Paltrow's mother Blythe-- if she had just come out of surgery, and was about 20 years older.

A fantastically elegant, intelligent, cultured, blessed with beautiful genetics, 78-year-old resident of LeRoy Street, we bonded over our common hatred of club-goers who gather at the base of her lovely townhouse, smoking cigs, yelling and shouting while she opens her window yelling down at them, "Keep it quiet down there! A woman needs her sleep!"

I've always identified with the older generation more than my own, and this was a chance for me to do some bonding with them once again.

Still better yet was Charlie, a 90-year-old former bodybuilder in a wheelchair who was just too cute for words; (born and raised on Orchard Street in 1917); as was the get-down grandma dancing her ass off to the blues guitarist in the main hall. The best part was when she got out and backed that trunk up, getting DOWN, and then, not content to be a wallflower, a lady in a wheelchair backed herself up from the dinner table and rolled over to join in. She shaked her moneymaker from waist-up.

No one ever said you need legs to join in on Xmas day dance festivities.

Best part about a Manhattan nursing home-- it's just like Manhattan and NYC-- so many different races, backgrounds, education levels, and personalities. It just was a breath of fresh air.
I just hope the diabetic patients did not end up with all the sugar treats-- Bad planning on the volunteer staff's part.

In the meanwhile, Grandma Lambert (see above legendary photo with her Sea Captain B.F.) got down in her own St. Pete, Florida, 'home with mama Lambert to the tunes of Marvin Gaye.

(see this example)


You just can't keep a Lambert woman down.

Ol's

XMas eve and in the cafe

My eyes are about ready to pop out of their sockets-- hearing Frosty the Snowman with the Chipmunks singing along on the speakers in a dark as hell internet cafe in Cooper Square.

So for the nursing home gang I bought hand lotions, chocolate mints, and a bunch of jigsaw puzzles.

Going to step over to the "Big K" to see what other stuff they might have-- maybe some playdough for the Alzheimer's unit-- I know they like color and texture.

Still have no apetitite.
I'm amazed at what wonders TMJ does for weight loss.
I look truly hot, except for the unhealthiness of it all.

This weekend I've read more art magazines than humanly possible-- especially going back to my 2003 "Art in America" editions, as well as the current Flash Art and Art Forum.
Feel like my head's going to explode.
The junk lady down the street also had a FANTASTIC 1965 edition of Art Voices (think it's called that)-- with some great articles that still read timely today.
Was a great weekend-- in front of the tree, hanging with my darling roommate Courtney.
I feel like I'm "Izzy" from "Grey's Anatomy" who after lying on the floor for days finally picks herself up and stares around her, knowing action is the only thing one can do to change things.

Ol's

Volunteering beckons

So today I just investigated my options for volunteering.
Found a few good places.
One is an organziation that sets up inner city kids with shelter rescue dogs-- saving lives on both accounts.
The second is an arts organization for homeless and at risk youth that does art classes.
And the third is a nursing home in the Village that uses art therapy for its residents.

I'm pretty excited to see what can happen from here.

First entry

In life, as in anything, there are new beginnings, and endings. Well, today I started my blog.

Alas, say goodbye to MySpace, Live Journal and the like and say hello to the new rose.

I'll be talking about many things-- art, music, life, health, heartbreak-- and other boring items no one can really relate to unless you're desperate for some entertainment.

But even so, let's give it a go, shall we?

Onwards!