Sunday, Monday

I said goodby to Renee, who should be in Ireland by now, and  went down to Chinatown to a Chinese festival in Columbus Park. I expected lots of vendors, like a typical NY street fair, but I guess the entrenched vendors didn't want competition, so there was lots of gambling and game playing, cards and checkers but no mah jong, and a charming small orchestra, the Street Classical Music Ensemble. I thought I was videoing them, but can't seem to play it here. You may get to see it when I return to a higher level of technology. 

I walked from Chinatown to Soho to the Film Forum and saw a documentary about El Bulli, the famous Spanish restaurant. I had heard many wonderful things about it, but after watching the film I realized I would have hated it, even if I could have afforded to go there. I love to eat, and I love trying all kinds of different foods, but this restaurant was more interested in providing emotion and excitement, not so much food. It was described as avant garde. I think avant garde food would trouble me even more than avant garde art. 

This morning I went to the tip of Manhattan and walked first to the World Trade Center site. Here is what I saw–reflected in the windows of the hotel across the street.



Then actually focused on the site.
Continuing down Broadway I went into Century 21 and bought a set of three pairs of earrings for $10. I forgot to bring some with me and felt naked all week. Then I found a block full of food trucks and got a wonderful falafel sandwich, which I ate in a little park. Then I went to one of my favorite museums in Manhattan: the American Indian Museum at the Custom House. They have a great exhibit called "The Infinity of Nations"–a survey of the wonderful art produced by the indigenous peoples of the Americas. I enjoyed seeing it, but it seems to me there is great irony in producing an exhibition lauding the cultures and civilizations we have so completely destroyed.

3 thoughts on “Sunday, Monday

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