Derry, Northern Ireland

Derry, Northern Ireland
A book I'm working on is set in this town.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Saturday in New York

A casual if not leisurely day, so far. I slept in, checked out at 11am sharp, toodled on over to the Guggenheim and saw an interesting collection of John Cunningham's crushed-metal sculptures, did a walk around Central Park's reservoir then headed on to the airport. Right now I'm in JFK's Terminal 5 (Jet Blue) which is actually quite civilized (some of the vendors even offer Dr. Pepper!). Now I'm fed, caught up on e-mails, and feeling a bit itchy about how I haven't been writing the last couple days.

I should say, my gentle meander up the Guggenheim was instructive and enlightening and illuminative of my current world. I'd never been to the museum before, and found, to my surprise. Cunningham's works were spaced out along the upward spiral, starting with his early stuff (not so interesting) and progressing upwards till you see his newer sculptures (which I found to be a lot more fun and playful). I also liked his little pieces, oddly enough (but only shrugged at his foam works as impermanent).

The side gallery rooms were taken up with an obvious collection of interactive media bits discussing how awful things are in Burma and how Kashmir is caught between two worlds. Very college-level in thought and presentation...and backed by DetuscheBank. There was also an exhibit of a young woman's self-portraits before she committed suicide (at the age of 23) that were like so-so Cindy Sherman and a grouping of paintings once owned by the Tannhauser family (and I always thought that was just a Wagnerian opera) that slammed early Picasso with Pissaro with Serat with Gaugin with a nice little Toulous-Lautrec.

but it was one of Cunningham's sculptures that gave me an idea for a script I've already written -- a creature-feature about an alien who's crash-landed on earth and wants to use some skateboarder kids to send off an SOS...which they aren't too crazy about, because it'll kill them. Hence my complete capitulation to the idea I will always be a film phreak first and writer second.

The best part of the whole journey uptown was the walk around the reservoir. So long as I stayed in the shade, it was pleasantly cool and I wasn't tired when I was done...and I took pictures. Soon to be posted.

Now comes the question -- what should I write? Finish OT? Redo "We-come"? Get that ex-cop to send me IF so I can get the damn thing finished? Get back to POS? The list is boundless.


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