time is of the essence, since its 2 am and my neighbor/roommate in manhattan is feeling the quesy after eating some questionable sushi. all is well in aaron land. im feeling burnt out, not from the 4 mile treks throughout the village (east and west..on tuesday i unknowingly walked across the island to find an argentianian tea shop..yes, i know im cool) but the need to see and do has been replace by the need to live and be. tonight some friends and I did shabbat, it was nice, peaceful, smart conversation.
which is a key coastal difference. its not that new yorkers are smarter or more intelligent, but life is just quicker here. everything is quicker..the way people enter and disembark from the subway, the rate at which my greenbacks flee their leathery home and enter into various cash registers around manhattan, and action. what israelis call tachles, getting down to the bottom of things, is this churning sensation flowing through new york. lives and plans are scheduled, banter is useless – and probably because its cold out so people tend to stay indoors, and whoa, actually talk to others – interaction leads to thinking, and thinking leads to more thinking, which may or may not lead to action. sometimes i’ll overhear topics of convos in LA, and call me self-righteous, but youll see me running my hands through my now frustrated scalp, thinking, is this for real? the mellow, chill stereotype has funneled down into empty, aimless drifts of thought with nothing substantial to show for. no, of course, not everyone in the west village has a higher vocabulary than my dad, but thats one, modest consensus that won’t hold up to any academic standard.
what is lost on me is this abstract and contemporary art business. holy crap. i couldnt help thinking of holden caulfield from the catcher in the rye, as he stumbles through new york eyeing every phony that walked by. i love art. my mom is an artist, my brothers and i make music, my dad, uh, he used to play the accordion and kicks ass at crossword puzzles. but bad art, REALLY bad art pisses me off. i walked into 27 galleries in the chelsea district in about 2 hours, and was only impress by 2 of them. and one artist in particular. the rest were off the wall, weird weird stuff. example: a 16 foot tapestry print of a boarding ticket to london with the seat circled. that’s art?
another gallery displayed 4 pieces in a huge wherehouse type of room, a great space. the ‘artist’ colored 8 canvasses in primary colors, then nailed like colors in pairs of two, then put them on opposite sides of the wall. jesus. dont forget pretentious curators who sit and play on vintage imacs until a fat cat shows up. then they smile. only then.
new york is…a lot to handle. ive been here a week, and putting it out there that i’ve seen a lot of the city and willing to live with that lie. the need to escape, see some greenery and exercise is starting to emerge, which is nothing new. the ocean, the vastness of the desert, and good looking girls is also an attractive plus. but now is now, and here is the here, so i try and take advantage, even if new york apartment buildings have ‘central heating’ and for this reason i sweat at night.
ive been carrying around a pocket dalai lama book wherever i go. im like a faithful jewish buddhist mormon who doesnt try to save anybody. really dig his thoughts on universal responsibility, and responsibility in general. its a concept that makes a ton of sense as a guide to our actions and is somehow lost on society these days. i think our daily interactions can be measureable or questioned from this perspective, and whether we can take further actions to act more responsibly.
thats my thought. have nice weekend. be especially nice to someone today, even if you normally wouldn’t. see what happens.