Our Little Bit of Scotland

The above dramatization occurred at work one day while describing to a co-worker how I will never retire. I maintain I will simply be found collapsed and deceased on the job. He captured the moment for posterity*.
A month or so ago, Bob and I began toying with the notion of visiting Scotland, as the ticket prices advertised by Norwegian Airlines from our local airport were very enticing. We haven't been on a significant trip- or even out of the country- in a very long time and our passports are up to date and why not Scotland? We looked at videos of perky travelers exploring the offerings of Edinburgh and the Scottish countryside, sampling haggis and whisky. We viewed hotel accommodations...
But wait! It came to me at work (perhaps while demonstrating "dying in my traces" like Boxer in "Animal Farm") that we should spend our money and time concentrating on that which would have a lasting, life-long effect. We should spend our time and money traveling to New York as we both truly wish to make a mark, leave our stamp upon the Art World!
So, newly reinvigorated and inspired, we sped off to NYC on Saturday and spent the day perusing galleries and the requisite ten million faces. (I mean, New York is nothing if not full of faces.) We saw the good, the bad and (dare I say it?) the less than sublime. But we went! And we saw! And it was (as always) oddly transfixing and transformative and exhausting. We're tired today.
However, the Lower East Side is (and has been for a few years) the new-er area to see art. It smells a bit like fish (occasionally) as this is Chinatown before Art Land, but who cares when culture (Kulture!) calls?
We had several "on trend" moments when it became apparent that scumbled, pealed back paper eroded "archeological" pieces were favored. And painting. Yes, painting is still "having a (big) moment". And space men? It's a decent season for the artist that pixel-ates or likes space alien/robot heads. (A few were actually okay.) What else... drawings that were very detailed and had a fantasy element seemed worth looking at. Some want to call this "outsider" but hell: what's an insider artist? And then we met a woman running a gallery that (I swear) was like eight feet square, featuring an obsessive artist coloring in plywood carved anal sculptures. Heavens help us...
And then we celebrated Bob's birthday ( five months late) at an Indian restaurant. Not just any one! It is a restaurant that we've been going to for years. I swear they save us a front row table, under the most amazing strobe-lit disco ball, with ever-lower red hot pepper themed Xmas lights- what a treat! The food was wonderful, the company exclusive and charming... we had a really good time.
And now we're tired but happy. I feel really good about our decision to "stay put" and go to NYC more frequently. We need to get that art career train rolling...

photo credit: Antony Corso