Starbucks Is Bombed...

I noticed the police tape and the preponderance of uniforms and jackets with letters screaming from them but didn't know what had happened. I asked a smiling cop with a twinkle in his eye what was happening. A bomb. A bomb? I asked incredulous. Yeah, a bomb. What were they trying to blow up? I asked. The cop shrugged his shoulders. And left me to wonder, what anybody would want to blow up at Third Avenue and 92nd Street. I found my answer when I got closer to the site. It was a Starbucks. The bomb had actually blown up a bench and blown out two windows. I know people can get a little pissed off about four dollar cups of coffee but a bomb? This bomb was way to close to home and I slept on it and woke up with nightmares of the ramifications. I returned to the scene of the crime the next morning having read an article about the bombing in the New York Times, it seems it was similar to four other bombings in the city over the past year. They all happened at about the same time of night and none of the others had injured anybody. While I was taking the picture of the blown out windows a woman in a car waiting for opposite side parking yelled at me saying, the guy in the car in front of me had witnessed the bombing. I lowered my head into his car window and asked what he had seen. It looked like teenagers. I live above. It woke me up. It was really loud and stunk of gun powder. That must have scared the crap out of you, I noted. He nodded. Well I'm glad you weren't hurt. Me, too, he answered. I waved and took a look around not noticing anything that was compelling. People were sitting in the Starbucks working on their lap tops and sipping libations like they always do, the bombing not disturbing their obvious routine on-goings. I walked away feeling eerily bedeviled, none of these bombs hurt anybody, but sooner or a later one will and then what? If this is a teenage prank, teenagers are a lot dumber now than they were when I was a teen. It worries me as I imagine IED's lining the Avenues in Manhattan.
I calm myself by trusting that city, state and federal forces will catch these bombers before the worse case scenario plays out...

Boutez En Avant...

It stands there ominously, protecting the Upper East Side from all comers or used to anyway; it was the 94th Street Armory built in 1895 to be home to the infantry. Through the century it has been the home for soldiers, polo ponies and now gifted students. The saved facade is red brick with parapets and a large arch way entrance and seems totally out of place surrounded by pre- war and post-war buildings, townhouses and private homes in the very up-market neighbor- hood. I walked around the facade feeling the history. The bricks have been cleaned and look almost fake, the blood red color making it even more formidable. The facade is the only thing left saved from the wrecking ball at the last minute in 1966 when it was made a landmark. When it was taken over by Hunter to serve as their middle and high school for girls it was dryly referred to as the "Brick Prison". In 1974 a lawsuit was won and the all girl school became coed. It is one of the best public school's in the nation according to the Wall Street Journal and Newsweek. On the other side of the wall is a playground with basketball courts and infant swings and slides. On the wall by the entrance on Madison Avenue are the words, Boutez En Avant, the battle cry of the original armory, meaning, Charge! Not all the neighborhood are thrilled to have the "sore thumb" in their backyard but as I look up at the red brick wall that has been such a big part of the Upper East Side history, I say boo-hoo to those that find it an eye-sore, close your eyes when you pass it. Sure, it is out of place and time but it is perfect none-the-less...

Metropolitan Museum Maelstrom...

May 1 is always a good day for me, not because in some places children are circling poles with colorful ribbons or some nations are showing off their war arsenal, the thing that makes me happy is that The Metropolitan Museum of Art opens their roof garden. Unfortunately, the first couple of days of May the weather didn't cooperate. Finally, on Thursday the sun shone and I walked to the Met to see the much heralded sculpture that graces the rooftop, Maelstrom, by Roxy Paine. It did not disappoint. It was as magnificent as the day. The sculpture is a shiny silver labyrinth that covers the whole roof, a leafless gargantuan tree, spraying it's branches upward and outward like a fountain of metal; the light splashing off of it making everything glow. One of the silvery branches actually goes into a water main with a red open valve wheel. I thought it might be cool if water would go into it and the marvelous maelstrom could spray a light mist from all directions. It doesn't, but regardless, this piece is a magnificent, eye grabbing and crowd pleasing masterpiece. You have to marvel at not only the scope of it but the preciousness of it and not only the child like play but the mature reality. It is this disengaging and engaging melding that make it so interesting. After gazing and following the flotsam of shiny branches from their beginnings to there ends all you can do it is stand back and gaze at it in awe. The final question always being how they got it up here. The many welded joints sanded but left to give more of a branch-like effect probably are proof that Roxy and hordes of welders put it together on the roof. I hope someone got that on video. There is nothing better than enjoying a seminal piece of art on a sunny day on the roof at the Metropolitan Museum of Art...

Flower Eating Squirrels...

I Walked Around The Block checking out all the spring flowers blooming. The daffodils on Park Avenue are especially inspiring. Carl Shurz Park is flooded with plumage of all kinds. On my walk I spied brownstones with flower boxes cascading with forget-me-nots; trees with small plant stands brimming with daffodils; azaleas popping and forsythia screaming; all in this smorgasbord for the eyes walk. Around every corner there was more floral fantasia for me to succumb to. On one corner a man was tending a small garden around a tree, planting some already blooming pansies. He stood up as I passed and grumbled and I thought he was talking to me. What? I asked. Damn squirrels, he mumbled. What? I asked again. Damn squirrels ate all the flowers. Bummer, I said under my breath imagining flower eating squirrels. I'll show em, he said. I slowed and looked back as he took out an authentic looking owl and put it in the dirt next to the flowers. I chuckled and moved on wondering how long until the owl would be removed by some fake owl stealing passerby. When I got home after all the flower inspiration I finished a project I have been working on since January. It seemed the right time to finish what I have been calling fourteen flowers. They are small paintings on paper, board and plastic I have found on my walks. I am happy with them. It's as nice to paint flowers as it is to see them and one thing I know for sure is that no squirrel would consider eating mine...