Thursday, February 17, 2011

NYC: The True New Yorkers™ Part 1

You know, I came to NYC filled with excitement and optimism. And, I still have those feelings for NYC. I love the people. I love the city.

Let me be clear: I LOVE True New Yorkers™

Now, there's a rule of thumb that says after 11** years of living in NYC, you are a "real" New Yorker.

I disagree; New York is a spirit. New York is a energy. New York is compassion. New York is smart. New York is funny. New York is fast. New York is fun.

Lately though, I feel as if I have been in a boxing ring:

I feel as if I bounced in each time only to be chased out, or almost chased out. But each time I returned with enthusiasm. Ready to go another round.

And there have been disappointments along the way.

Disappointments in the sense of people who happen to live in New York, but really are not the soul of New Yorkers.

THEY are not New York. Why they are here, I've no idea.

And, unfortunately, their actions have affected my livelihood here in NYC. No matter how many times I got back into the ring, there seemed to be a left hook swinging.

And I dodged, bobbed, weaved, and fought back.

I tried to stay in my bubble, my happy NYC bubble, and repeat to myself that

I WILL triumph.

The True New Yorkers™ have been nothing but warm, kind, and helpful.

And I hesitate to write in detail here, as since I started this blog - which was started as a spur of the moment kind of thing for me and friends which in turn developed into a GPS for family to check in to see where I was, where I was going, and how things were going.

But then, there was a moment or three, where I was alerted to the fact that some reading my blog who were not in my corner.

And, when you're in the ring no matter if the opponent is 7 feet tall or 60 pounds, you need all the confidence you can muster or fake; having the hecklers behind you when you are doubting yourself I realize is part of the sport; but in round 5 when you are wondering if it's worth it, you need all the supporters you can rally.

And that stalled me at certain times; I didn't want to blog anymore. Because all I could think of were the way those people felt about me. Finding out they were reading this or had access to the blog, well, deflated me.

I edited - heavily. I started editing back in New Mexico, and as time marched on and I realized more that were not on "my  team" were reading, well, the fun was sort of gone.

I know, I shouldn't give a hoot what people think.

This was done for fun, to share with those I loved, and for the people I know loved and cared for me.

Until part 2 where I will elaborate more, you can peruse this which I stumbled on after writing this post:

**I remember the 11 yr  'factoid' from someone saying this to me as a teenager; I've no idea what the rule of thumb is.

Friday, February 11, 2011

NYC: Mr Bitchin', MoMA, and Mary.

A former co-worker and dear friend of mine flew into NYC from Los Angeles to attend the screening of a documentary she edited and received director credit on; the film is based on the Southern California fine artist Robert Williams and aptly titled: "Mr. Bitchin' "

Robert Williams 
Expectorating In A Fast Food Patron’s Double Burger Deluxe
oil on canvas
Courtesey of Shafrazi Gallery
Explanatory Nomenclature: The Exhilaration Of Satisfying Spite Magnifies With The Degree Of How Far The Despicable Action Is Taken; Consequently, The Practice of Spewing Salivary Secretions Into The Food Products Of An Unknowing Consumer By A Restaurant Food Preparer Would Bring This Infectious Exchange Into The Sphere Of Clinical Animosity Ecstasy.

Poolroom Title: One Double Burger With Secret Phlegm, Hold The Antibiotics

Here is a description from The Whitney where his work was chosen for the 2010 Biennial:

Born in 1943 in Albuquerque, NM
Lives and works in Chatsworth, CA

Robert Williams’s watercolors picture a world in which the laws of physics wreak havoc on suburban neighborhoods and tommy gun–wielding cowboys with tomatoes for heads haunt the forests. Williams’s self-described “lowbrow” aesthetic is idiosyncratic and deeply rooted in the vernacular aesthetics of Californian subcultures. To create his meticulously crafted works, he applies classical fine art techniques to the visual language of underground comix and custom cars, informed by his early experiences of painting hot rods at Ed “Big Daddy” Roth’s legendary auto shop and contributing mind-expanded drawings to R. Crumb’s Zap Comix in the 1960s. In the cultural space between the museum and the comic book convention, Williams’s work has fostered an audience for self-conscious, uncompromising art that can also be truly popular.

Instead of attending the high profile Biennial opening night party at The Whitney in NYC,  Mr. Williams chose to attend a small opening of his work at Cal State Northridge, in Northridge California.

That's just the way Mr Bitchin' rolls.

The NYC screening took place at MoMA with the respected art magazine Juxtapoz presenting the film  - which btw, Mr Williams is a co-founder of.

The magazine, that is.

Mary on the left with her sister in law in front of MoMA pre- screening:

The Screen

The crowd filing in!
Full house!

Mary, moments before the screening is to start
(and, why yes, those are my gloves and eyeglass case on the ledge!)

 This was Mary's first documentary - and she ended up at MoMA in NYC - not too shabby for the first time. Granted it took her three years to complete the film, but many others try for much, much longer and never even get in the same breathing vicinity as MoMA.

Congrats, MARY!