Can a person’s identity be reflected in the way he or she spends the weekend? I think it depends – if you are given a blank canvas with no obligations and energy to spare, then there is a chance that your weekend can say a lot about you, more so than a weekend involving planned outings, a roadtrip, or a series of errands. And even more so if there is a certain level of awareness – even if only a passing thought – in how you shape your weekend and how you think others might perceive your decisions. I think this past weekend was a good example of a blank canvas. A little recap:
* I had a strong urge to clean my apartment on Saturday morning. I organized my room, did the dishes, took out the garbage, and went to Home Depot with Andy to buy a new mop that could squeeze itself with a twist (pretty neat). I then proceeded to mop the floors, making it safe to walk around barefoot.
* I decided to check out the Brooklyn Book Festival, particularly the panel Of Chaos and Fiction: In an era of war and global political trauma, how do writers maintain their artistic equilibrium and stay focused on their craft? Does reality intrude? A panel discussion with Nicole Krauss (The History of Love), Jhumpa Lahiri (Namesake), Jaime Manrique (Our Lives are the Rivers), and Elizabeth Nunez (Bruised Hibiscus). I was luckily one of the last handful of people to be admitted after repeated warnings about the courtroom being full. It was great to listen to Jhumpa talk, since I’m a big fan of her Interpreter of Maladies. She read a passage from a New Yorker piece that was published in May, which I was glad to have read. If I was to take anything significant away from the panel, I’d say it would be the idea of writing as a way to order the chaos that is our everyday lives — nothing new, but always a good reminder.
* After the panel, I met up with Graceface, who just began attending Brooklyn Law, and had dinner with her at Noodle Pudding, a nice homey Italian joint on Henry St. between Cranberry and Middagh Sts. Afterwards, I went to her apartment/dorm – which was designed by the same guy who did the Broadway dorm at Columbia, thus explaining the same-style furniture and decor – and continued my duties as John Mayer evangelist, letting her import from my Continuum CD. We then went to a Starbucks nearby and chatted before I headed back.
* I stopped by Koreatown to meet up with Brandon, Jong, and Andy for some drinks. We went to the bar below Space Cafe 212 (what’s it called?) and had light Korean beers, a fruit platter, and bowls of popcorn that they refilled for us. They played Spiderman and I, Robot on a projection screen, so when we ran out of things to talk about, we just watched the moving images (no sound). We made the usual cracks on each other and chatted about sports, making money, and girls – the usual.
* At home, I worked on setting up Andy’s new blog about golf, Double Par. It was fun designing the simple logotype and page layout, and I hope he writes some cool stuff.
* On Sunday morning, I woke up to see if a scheduled pickup basketball game was still going on. I called the guy who organized the get-together, but found out that nobody was able to make it. I decided to stay put and puttered around the apartment, tweaking Andy’s blog a bit more, showing him how to use it, and settling down to watch some pro football. I quickly grew disinterested in the Giants-Eagles game as the Giants fell behind early, but as we all know now, they made an amazing comeback and won in OT. Go Eli!
* I read an entry on Gothamist about a play called Never Swim Alone, “swift, funny satire about two Alpha-males and their ruthless competition for the title of Top Dog.” Quickly intrigued, I found an equally interested party in Anita and made plans to watch it later in the afternoon. Oddly enough, the play was playing at The Lion Theater, a few doors down from my old residence 420 West 42nd and a place I never imagined going to all the times I walked by it last year. Anita, who was stuck in a cab in traffic, made a heroic dash and made it into the theater at the last second. The ensuing show, only 55 minutes long, was incredibly entertaining, brilliant, and memorable. It’s tough to describe the play clearly, but just imagine two very white, cocky banker types using their best schmooze-talk (although things heat up later) to convince the audience that one is better than the other – The Office meets American Psycho in surrealist fashion.
* I had dinner with Anita at HK afterwards, a hip and trendy noveau diner a few blocks away. Going back to HK reminded me of all the Sundays I used to frequent the place, ordering its jumbo cups of coffee and delicious French toast topped with generous portions of fresh fruit. I had the portobello mushroom sandwich, which was a pleasant surprise, especially with its sweet onion marmalade. The Magic Hat #9 beer that I also had made me excited about my upcoming Vermont trip, where I definitely hope to stop by their brewery.
* Back at the apartment, I watched more football highlights and then got ready for a “Barrel conference call” at ten o’clock. It was a three-way call with Wook and Dan, and we had a nice talk about upcoming projects and a need to steer our work more internally, so that we may pursue projects of our own creation rather than piling on more client work. I realized that I’ve been way too hurried about growth and making money. It’s time to be more patient, and I need to bring back the bigger picture.
* During the course of the weekend, I read a bit of Seeing is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees, a biography about contemporay artist Robert Irwin by Lawrence Weschler. It’s a really well-written biography, almost in the style of a New Yorker profile, and though I’m not a big art history guy, I’ve been intoxicated by the cool, laid-back yet intense persona of Irwin portrayed in the book. I particularly loved the way Irwin describes his passion for cars and how he believed that a teenager’s handywork in fixing up a car or motorcycle was a true form of folk art: “Everything [about the car] was thought out in terms of who you were, how you saw yourself, what your identity was… a folk art is when you take a utilitarian object, something you use everyday, and you give it overlays of your own persoanlity, what it is you feel, and so forth.” How about weekends?