Too thinky! Tooooo thinky!!!

Magnet #897 - Albert Einstein

I picked this Albert Einstein magnet from Pomegranate for today, because I think he would have had a heyday with Inception. He'd probably talk for hours about the layered realities and dreams, the inherent quantum time and physics of each layer, and of course, the relativity of it all.

But, here's the thing. He'd have to go discuss it with someone else.

I hate movies that make me think too much. There. I said it.

There's a reason I go to movies, and that's to go into a darken theatre and forget about the world at large for a couple of hours.

Yes, there's an argument to be made for a movie to challenge your thinking about what you know to be truth and reality.

There's an argument to be made for a movie to expand your horizons, to teach you something.

There's even an argument for a movie to scare the living daylights out of you.

But, you know what? I hate being mindf*cked. Hate it. So any movie that exists solely to make me think about it days later makes me crazy.

On top of that, I also hate nonlinear storytelling, which is why I also didn't get through Christopher Nolan's Memento. And, yes, I know that's quite an unpopular, if pedestrian, opinion. I don't care.

The story line, screwy though it was, does keep you engaged (unless you were that idiot girl child in front on me on her Blackberry for the last 30 minutes of the movie. It would have been different if she were saving lives on email, but she was on Facebook. Tagging pictures. Of her and her boyfriend. Kissing. Several pictures. And her and her girlfriends. Not kissing. Dudes. Tagging pictures. I get that you're too dumb to understand what was happening, but seriously? Dim the freakin' BB display then! /endrant), and the ending is open ended enough to make the entire room (except dumbass Facebook girl) grunt. (Admittedly, I also hate open-ended endings, for the same reason I hate unsolved mysteries.)

Now. On the flip side? Inception was gorgeous. The direction was phenomenal, the cinematography was beautiful, the effects were amazing, the multiple locations were fabulous, the architecture was awesome, the score was terrific, and the pretty people were, well, pretty.

So, I guess that leaves me on the fence about Inception. I hated the mindf*ck, but loved the production as a whole.

And, I dunno what dreams may come tonight, but the movie kinda made me realize that the vivid, violent and unhappy dreams I was having earlier this summer have all but gone away in this last week of freedom.

It's kinda nice to have my good sleeps back.

Now, I just gotta find me a totem.

Hiding in plain sight

Magnet #896 - Grand Central Station

One of my absolute favorite places in New York City, Grand Central Terminal. It's simply gorgeous there, and this magnet from the Transit Museum Annex is one of my most favorite images, and indeed one of the most recognized, historic shots of the old-school Beaux-Arts depot.

Truth be told, I can't figure out how the southern-facing windows are getting this sunlight at all, since, well, it's facing south. But I doubt this shot could happen now anyway, given that those windows are blocked by the Philip Morris building on one street corner.

I've done one or two different tours of the building, mainly because I love hearing the stories about it. Built in the late 1800s, mostly because of Commodore Vanderbilt's railroads, it's still one of the largest train stations in the US. I freakin' love this station, and the wonderful history of the building itself.

There's the brick in the ceiling that they left untouched during the last renovation, to remind everyone how dirty the ceiling became from the soot of the trains. There's the little hole in the ceiling, made to let them house the giant NASA rocket displayed there to allay everyone's Sputnik fears. There's the PR save, telling everyone that the ceiling's erroneously inverted celestial zodiac drawing is actually from God's point of view, instead of our view of the sky. There's the whispering corners downstairs, where you whisper into the corners and hear your friends from the opposite side of the room. There's the Campbell Apartments, where they refuse to let you in, in flip-flops or sneakers. The tennis courts that I still haven't seen. And a billion other hidden secrets.

And of course, there's the historic Oyster Bar downstairs. I know it for movie after movie, after movie, but I'd never actually been to the restaurant itself. No particular reason, but it's generally a guy's guy joint to go to.

You'd think, after all the countless times I've gone to GCT and given tours of it, that I'd know about the supersecret entrance to the Oyster Bar saloon! A couple days ago, a guy's guy friend of mine brought me around the corner, and whipped open the door and down the staircase into their hardwood, dimly lit saloon, "where all the players go, joy."

Mind you, it's in plain sight. And I must have passed it a million times. But really. Does anyone really read signs on doors anymore? Plain as day, it had the seriously outdated Oyster Bar logo and Saloon Entrance right on the door. Had no idea!

Also? How awesome is that place. Double secret cool. Is how awesome.

And see? The best part, is that no matter how long I've been here, there's always something new to discover in this town. Even when it's hiding in plain sight.

I’m not a tourist. No, really, I’m not. - Guest blogger, Save the World Sister

Magnet #895 - Patan Durbar Square

Whether it's me missing stuff in Dublin, or my mom not feeling like seeing that David thing, it seems that the "visit somewhere and miss a big thing" thing is hereditary.

In this case, it's STWsister being in Nepal for eight months, and not visiting their big museum. Sigh. It was only a dollar!

- joy

____________________________________

I lived in Nepal for eight months. Was I trekking the whole time? No (though I’m sure my parents thought I was). I was there to do research for my master’s thesis. But really… I was just living in Nepal. And it was fun.

I lived down the road from Patan Durbar Square. There are three Durbar Squares in the Kathmandu area – Kathmandu, Bhaktapur and Patan. These were the three main cities in the old days. Each of the squares are surrounded by old temples and filled with tons of people – Nepalis and tourists. And because they are big tourist attractions, you have to pay to enter the square… if you’re a tourist.

When I was in Nepal, I tried learning the language if only to talk to taxi drivers and shopkeepers. I found that being Asian (read: brown), I was often confused for being Nepali. It was nice. Throw on a kurta (a longish tunic) over pants and all of a sudden I’m Nepali.

Since I lived close to Patan Durbar Square, I liked to visit it a lot – just to sit and people watch and because my favorite supplier of bangles (I developed an addiction to the shiny bracelets - [note: this is true, we all benefited from this addiction, as she unearthed box upon box of bangles from her suitcases - joy]) had her shop in the square. Getting to the square was always an adventure because I managed to get lost ALL the time no matter how many times I went. The streets are just THAT small and twisty.

Once I got to the square, however, I would just walk past the tourist ticket booths and ignore the ticket takers. Sometimes they would stop me and ask for my ticket and I would look at them, laugh and say “Nepali ho” (I’m Nepali). And they’d believe me! HA! I don’t feel bad about it either because TONS of tourists come through and do pay the entrance fee (at one of the other Durbar Squares, it’s almost $10!).

I really love Patan Durbar Square, though. Like all places in Nepal, this square is constantly crawling with young people all looking for a quiet spot. You’d think they’d find less public places to go hold hands, but they don’t.

Along one side of it is the Patan Museum (which apparently has an intriguing collection). Now, I never really went to look in the museum, but I did go to a benefit concert there in which Kutumba did an awesome show and won me over as a fan.

Patan Durbar Square is where things happen. I’d say it is the best of the three Durbar Squares.

Kathmandu Durbar Square is overcrowded, though the night market is cool. Too many demonstrations happen around there. And sometimes the Kumari Devi (living goddess) shows up there and causes massive crowds and confusion.

The Bhaktapur Durbar Square is more geared for tourists, so it’s in better shape. It’s quieter and cleaner, but doesn’t seem as alive as the other two.

Patan Durbar Square is more real to me, I guess, because that’s where my Nepal was. I miss that Nepal… all the people, all the food...and all the bangles.

Always somewhere between living and dying

Magnet #894 - Van Gogh's Sunflowers

Vincent and the Doctor is one of my favorite episodes of Doctor Who - ever, where Eleven and Amy go back to visit Van Gogh. Loved that. And one of my favorites scenes is here, when they wake Vincent up out of one of his paintings, and he peers out his window at Amy sitting among the sunflowers, and Amy learns that he doesn't really have a thing for sunflowers.

Several canvases seem to say the opposite, for Van Gogh painted at least a dozen still lifes of sunflowers in every stage. From gorgeous full blooms to dying blossoms strewn on the ground, it was clear he had some sort of affinity for them.

The backstory being that people aren't really that sure if he loved the flowers themselves, or if he just painted them to please his buddy Paul Gauguin. Or, if he painted them because at the time, yellow paint was a new set of hues that they came out with and he loved experimenting with those shades and the joyfulness of the color.

At any rate, he considered the sunflowers his flower to paint.

And now, of course, now I feel the need to run over to the Met to check out their batch of sunflowers.

Van Gogh was one of our answers to one of the clues during last Saturday's Watson Adventures' Murder at the Met scavenger hunt. I've done the same hunt before, but with a different set of clues. Hard! I dunno if you guys have ever done one, but I love them.

For two hours, you think of nothing but getting to the next clue by solving the one you're working on, and getting lost in the details and figuring out red herrings, and not really seeing the art in front of you. Mind you, I'm not always so good with figuring out those clues, but I'm really good at getting you where you need to go when it comes to getting around the Met. Well, unless you're looking for cups from the first millennia in two different rooms. And you lose 20 minutes because of it. Oops.

For me, though, the best part about that scavenger hunt was that it brought me to rooms I'd never been to before - I can't wait to get back there to explore them...and those sunflowers.

Reading room

Magnet #893 - William Howard Taft (1909 - 1913)

Poor Taft. Hovering somewhere around 300 pounds, William Howard Taft was indeed our heaviest and largest president.

Remember that Cow on the White House Lawn book I read a long time ago? The Taft story I remember from that is that he's the only president who got stuck in his bathtub. But, I think that's just an urban legend. He supposedly ordered the largest bathtub ever for the White House, though.

Another Taft legend was that he unwittingly invented the seventh-inning stretch. He went to a baseball game, and having to squeeze into the wooden seats, he couldn't take it, and by the seventh inning, he got up to take a stroll. Others thought he was leaving, so they got up as well. And thus was born the YMCA yardrakers seventh-inning stretch.

I'm just using Taft for today, because he visited New York to attend the opening of the first New York Public Library main branch in 1911. I took the tour this afternoon, and it's such a wonderful building.

I don't know why we don't build more things out of marble these days, but Carrère and Hastings' Beaux-Arts architectural style of the main branch is just breathtaking. We went walking around Astor Hall, where the soft-spoken guide explained that the marble was from Vermont. And then into the periodicals room, where the wood was French something or other. And then the new modern steel and glass addition nestled in the heart of the library. And the story of the written word in four WPA-painted panels in the McGraw Rotunda. And the tw0-block long reading room on the top floor. Oh! And a Guttenberg Bible!

Seriously. A really great tour, even if I couldn't hear the guide. I will admit, though, that it was fascinating to roam one of the back halls and see some of the 88 miles of stacks they had hidden from general view...mostly because about 20 years ago, my sister and I came to visit the library, and we were so excited to visit the library, and we walked and walked and walked, and lord help us, we couldn't find a single book anywhere. We seriously didn't understand why the main branch didn't have any books!

Now we know.

Actually, there's something scary and fun about the fact that they're gonna turn the main branch of the library into an actual lending library, and move the current stacks into a new facility under Bryant Park!

Jeepers, I can't wait for that tour!

Fixing the world from far away

Magnet #892 - Happy Bunny's Fix the World

Nah, I don't really feel this way. It just cracked me up when I saw it at one of the Comic-Con booths. (Again, SDCC exhibitors, another booth I wouldn't have visited if they hadn't had magnets. IJS.)

My first instinct, now that I have some time to breathe and some free time on my hands, was that I wanted to run down to the Gulf and help in the clean-up efforts. But, I just read somewhere that they really don't want people to travel down there to help out. Which seems odd, but I guess understandable.

So, in the next couple of days, I'll be trying to find some way to be useful from NYC - some way that doesn't include calling people up asking them for money, anyway. I'm sure there have to be some sort of volunteer positions here in town, no?

It's actually kinda funny, a friend of mine Tweeted that BP's looking for some help, with people calling it the worst job in the world. There's a part of me that believes it - I mean, no company's rep has gone from so loved to so reviled so fast. But, there's a part of me that thinks, man, anyone who could possibly bring BP's corporate reputation back to the land of the living will win PR Person of the Universe. Man, what a job.

Good luck with that. And I'll be waiting over here with the cookies.

That David thing

Magnet #891 - Michaelangelo's David

I debated on using this David magnet for joy magnetism, but then I realized you know what? It's considered one of the world's masterpieces. It's art. Deal with it.

We had a bit of a tough time of it in Florence last year, our first day being the worst. day. ever. Everyone was fighting. No one wanted to be there. And on top of that, God gave us some torrential rainshowers to deal with. In the middle of the day, with little coverage and only a few umbrellas between us.

Oh, my, it was just miserable. It was that day that I vowed to see what I could of Florence, because dadgumit, I was never coming back to town again.

So, a couple of days later, when my mom said, tiredly and clearly at the end of her rope, I really don't want to go see "that David thing." But we all said, "Hold up. We're here. We're in the neighborhood. Hells yeah, we're going to see 'that David thing.'" And so we did.

Can I tell ya'll? And there's really no way to say it without it sounding dirrty, but honestly, I had no idea how big David was. Everyone talks about Michelangelo and you've seen his work online and on tv and in books, and you sort of vaguely understand and accept that he's one of the greatest artists that the world has ever known. But, until you actually see his work, you just don't really get it.

So when you go to the Galleria dell'Accademia, and you turn the corner and you see David for the very first time from afar, down the long hallway, your breath just catches.

I mean, Michaelangelo sculpted this 16-foot (or 17, depending on who you believe) fine specimen of man from one piece of old, remaindered marble. One! Piece! It took him about three years, from 1501-1504. Dudes. That's more than FIVE hundred years ago!

And yet, here David stands proudly in this magnificent gallery space, all by his lonesome, save for the dozens of onlookers (uplookers)? examining every inch of his almost perfect body atop his giant pedestal. I say almost perfect because supposedly, the piece was conceived to be an outdoor sculpture, hence the larger than scale hands and feet. Oh! And according to the Accademia site, if you look at David's face head on, his eyes are actually looking in two different directions. Honestly, once you see the guy up close, all the way to his veins in his hands, forearms and legs, you just appreciate those other imperfections, as utter perfection.

So, yeah. If you get a chance to go to Florence, drop by and see that David thing. Mom didn't regret going in the end.

As for me, the best part about the visit was the sheer fascination the piece held for my dad. He's always loved to see how things are made, and has so much respect for workmanship that goes into any craft - whether it's building megabridges or building a simple wood cabinet. Watching him appreciate and study David was a lovely thing to see.

No kidding, in the couple of hours we spent there, we couldn't really tear him away from it. He must have walked around the statue a good dozen times, coming up with new details on every trip. We did, too, just to I Spy every detail. Right down to David's thing.

What? I couldn't help myself. I know it's art, but I just read that some companies who offer replicas of the piece actually offer a fig leaf, free of charge, for those who want to censor themselves. I mean, what?