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That dazzling, show-offy, alpha thrust of the outer shells, yeah yeah. Seen it all before. But the lighting underneath … in the undercroft where the cars drive through … where the lone concertgoer slumps, dreams, sleeps, waits …
Now that is astonishing. Concrete made light. Intersected by the lone human - so alone - amid the busy, buzzy throng of us.
Can you see him?
So many astonishments.
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there's a place in the city where escalators touch the outside world.
Jun 25, 2024
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When people come to visit New York, and they ask me for advice on things to do and see, I without fail recommend the Dream House, a long-term sound and light installation in Tribeca. Conceived by minimalist composer LaMonte Young and light artist Marian Zazeela in the 1960’s, and in its current location since the early 1990’s, the Dream House is, essentially, a room on the second story of an otherwise unremarkable downtown building, with four speakers emitting mixed frequency sine waves, in a soft glow of fuchsia light. Hearing is believing, because as you navigate the room, the interplay of frequencies makes every coordinate in the small room completely unique. Even minute movement of the body alters the perception of sound in the space. And the sound isn’t just heard, it’s felt. The Dream House predates the public’s consciousness of meditation with binaural sound, and this is quadaural! Donations are suggested, might I recommend going there and spending an afternoon or evening. Stay as long as you like!
Oct 19, 2021
I like giant sculptures in random places around town. Is this what England feels like - “o look, a castle”
Jan 10, 2025
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Frankie cat. Rescue cat.
I have become her pet, and am not sure how. But she owns me, not vice versa.
I am masseuse, feeder, groomer, general dogsbody, servant. And all this from an avowed dog person who has spent a lifetime scoffing at the mere thought of cats and their weird cat appendages known as owners.
And now I am one of them.
Am suddenly, meltingly, doing anything to get that thrum of demand as she sits on my chest pinning me, helplessly, to the bed. The couch. The anything.
Frankie cat, what have you done to me?
Feb 18, 2025
Mar 8, 2025
Ok, it’s about a Tokyo toilet cleaner. And he barely speaks. But bear with me.
It’s a film that is luminous with beauty from a director nearing the end of his life (Wim Wenders is in his eighties.) And it says so much about what is important in life, and what isn’t …
Relinquishing complication, I think, is the key. Plus the quietness of simplicity. And the ability to cleave to a simple life - if you possibly can. And having the courage to be singular; to not care what others think of you (the ultimate freedom.)
Lessons, lessons, all the life lessons. I still think about the gift of this film, months after I was immersed in it.
I left the cinema … cleansed.
Feb 17, 2025