tobermory's Diaryland Diary



Update - I forgot that we hit a fun bar after dinner so I'm putting that part in now (03/31/05). Iím so excited about being able to put in links that I canít stand it! Some day I may even go back and put in links for old entries. Yeah, right. Thatíll happen right after I organize and fold my underwear and start vacuuming everyday. But, it does not diminish my thrill at being able to include links in the current entries - although not this one because I'm pressed for time.

So Ė more NYC round-up Ė Friday:

We left Robís apartment a little later than planned (blame the drinky) to head over to MoMA. The past couple of times weíve visited NYC Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) has been closed for itís big remodeling/renovation project with only a lame outpost in Queens. Yes, we did visit the Queens MoMA and the best part of it was the building, so I do know firsthand that it was a lame substitution populated mostly by Japanese tourists crowding around Van Goghís Starry Night with their cameras. Luckily I had thought ahead and bought tickets online because when we showed up for our 11 am entrytime there was already a line around the block of poor saps who had not thought ahead. I love the smug feeling of linejumping and got to indulge as we waltzed past the line and straight in to the ticket-taker. MoMa was pretty much all I could hope for Ė loads of really wonderful thought provoking art along with some complete freakout pieces. We had lunch here too which, although totally overpriced, was fantastic because MoMa turned all their concessions over to a well-known New York restauranteur so the food is actually fresh and completely edible. Steve and I split an arugula and pecorino salad and a tomato-basil-mozzarella panini Ė yum! We stayed at MoMA for about four hours and Iím pretty sure we covered every gallery that was open. Highlights included the really nice guard who helped show me how to shut off the flash on my camera so that I could continue to take pictures, and seeing a couple Joseph Cornell boxes that I had previously only seen pictures of in books.

Next we went to the American Folk Art Museum (AFAM) Ė conveniently located just about right next door to MoMA. Steve and I love this museum so much that we became members a few years ago. AFAM goes beyond the generally perceived concept of folk art as quilts and weathervanes, and (although it includes those forms as well) moves towards the intuitive or self-taught art movement. In simple terms this often means art made by the untaught along with the disturbed, the compulsive, the institutionalized, the incarcerated, and the isolated. For some reason I find art to be more compelling if it is made by someone who has no thought of compensation just a burning need to create something Ė even if it is an 800 page illustrated manifesto about becoming king of an imaginary realm, or the compulsion to nail thousands of buttons onto a tree branch. Of course there is chaff amongst the wheat and some of the art there is crap (in my opinion) but at least itís always interesting Ė particularly when you get the story behind the artist. We crossed the street to check out the gift shop at the American Craft Museum where I managed to buy $35 worth of greeting cards and then we got a call from Rob asking us to meet him at a bar called Amuse for some drinks. So, two glasses of wine later I declare that if I donít eat something soon Iíll have to be carried home and Rob popped us in a cab and took us to The Red Cat where I had a salad with some sort of melty cheese dressing and bacon bits, some lovely tile fish and a cookie platter complete with homemade sugared marshmallows and a mini-cupcake. After dinner Rob deemed it too early to head home - this is New York! The city that never sleeps! So we walked up the street from the restaurant and went to a bar called Brite where (because we were early by New York standards) we were able to colonize the velvety back banquette/booth thingy. We shared two bottles of Champagne - very luxe! - and then headed home. Funniest moment of the evening came when they made the 5' tall barback come and stand next to 6'6" Rob. Then a cab ride home Ė this time with Rob and I doing our own Smiths karaoke - again to Steve and the cab driverís dismay.

Next up Ė you guessed it! Saturday. But thatís a tale for tomorrow.

3:47 p.m. - 2005-03-30


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