Despite the assurances that it was not so by the museum guards, I’m convinced that Rashid Johnson tinkers with the exhibit. I have visited the Guggenheim 4 times to witness the work. From my p.o.v. there is a change here and there, or something I missed. I could’ve sworn that that vase and those books were in a different place than upon my last survey.
My theory was that there were new pots on display today. The guard said, “no, they’re the same, they’ve grown of course.”
I have complained about boring or uninspiring architecture at Walk With Me, Too and at other of my “real estate” blogs.
Boxy can be boring, but when I look up at these, I see interesting patterns in the sunshine.
In honor of a dear friend, I am asking you to celebrate January 20th, which is Penguin Awareness Day. April 25th,which is World Penguin Day, gives us another chance to toast the varieties of these little wobbling fellows.
The kooky little birds are the Charlie Chaplains (sic) of the cold climes.
Breakfast is or should be a quiet and peaceful meal. To his credit, he didn’t utter a chirp.
Greeks must have meandered into French kitchens in the last half century. Almost every little bakery seems to feature a small burek alongside the croissants.
Veganism, if it is an ism, seems to be going mainstream. My evidence? Tacos with vegan pastor. Likewise, there’s Impossible gone mainstream in the Starbucks breakfast sandwich.
Despite the turmoil we all felt and experienced, the sixties were a time of hope. For many of us, they were a chance to bring the America we loved to its full potential.
Social justice was a goal within reach. Equality and righted wrongs were an ideal to which we could aspire.
The sixties were an opportunity to be our best. Or at least better.
All The Best