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NauenThen

Monday Quote: Brooklyn

Not far from the Brooklyn museum, on Washington Street. 

The higher we climb, the farther we see. 

 

Although I think it says "further," thus not limiting the possibilities to physical views. 

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Gratuler Syttende Mai!

Can’t hold those Vikings back!

It’s Norwegian Constitution Day, so here’s a flashback to my wonderful trip last summer. 205 years of independance from Sweden.

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Little cat feet

I love taking photos of this handsome being. 

Helplessly in love, I am. Buster is the purringest cat of all time. He purrs when I pet him, when he thinks I'm about to feed him, while he's eating, when I pass by. It's constant & loud & loving. Amazing to have such a bond with a nonhuman person. 

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Should I?

The choice was too small to see or too big & out of focus.
 

 

Our duvet cover is getting weary. Is this flaming basketball a good idea for a replacement? Is the fact that Johnny really likes it in its favor? Why can't I find one that's nice cotton, colorful but sedate, & something we can live with for the next 5 years? Where does one go to look for duvet covers, since this is the best option I've found online, & I'm thinking... No.

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Monday Quote

Education is a progressive discovery of our own ignorance. 

~ Will Durant

 

Ain't that the truth. The more I know, the more I learn how little I know. It's wonderful in a way—it's clear that I will never run out of eye-openers. 

 

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Thought in April

Post-Normality Poem

 

Am I normal

or

am I performing normality?

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Rooster's

Would I have gone in if Rooster's had been in Tulsa or Waycross, Georgia, rather than St. Paul, Minnesota? Or maybe I would have been less likely in the Southwest or South to see what they had? The only person I know in Minnesota who might be called an adventurous eater (she (we) ate dog, or maybe horse, tacos at a bullfight in Mexico City where we were the only gringas)—well, I will have to ask if she's been to Rooster's. I no longer know, I guess, what "adventurous" means. 

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In the neighborhood: Last Light bar

On the 11th floor of the brand-new Sister City hotel on the Bowery is their outdoors lounge, the Last Light Bar. I'm not hip enough to know to go here within 2 weeks of opening—my old friend David Morrison built this hotel. The New Museum is dead ahead in this photo. These few blocks—Bowery, Rivington, Stanton—are among the last to get gentrified in the neighborhood. I certainly never imagined a fancy place like this could ever displace the brightly lit bars of yore. It always seemed awful to drink in a bar brighter than the day outside, but that was the norm on the Bowery 40 years ago. 

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Telephone numbers aren't forever

It's not exactly like 212-260-6142 was part of my deepest identity, but it is the number I've had ever since I moved to my apartment in 1977. Eventually, like everyone, I switched to a cell, mostly because Verizon couldn't or wouldn't fix the line. For over a year people have only gotten a busy signal, & I've been paying all that time for nothing at all. I wish I could still have a landline: it was worth it for the very few times I really needed it—on September 11, 2001, especially, and during a few blackouts. I feel a little sad but I tell myself I have a good enough, maybe even better, number now: 212-677-3792. Call me up sometime! 

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In the neighborhood: art in action

Leisurely walk south of Houston & here was this Spanish painter at work. His friend told us his name but I only half-heard & let go of it instantly. This was a couple of days ago—I'll try to get back over there (Allen Street, east side) & see if it's sullied yet by graffitti. So pretty that I hope not. 

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