I’ve been watching my neighbor for months, since I moved my desk from the front of my apartment to the back. But now that she and her neighbors are the people I see most everyday, beside my boyfriend and myself in the mirror, I feel especially invested in them. Park Slope looks as picturesque as a stage set: a quality that’s easy to miss in real life, when you’re being shoved and yelled at in the food coop.
There are three extremely horny artists with exhibits at the Met right now. Rodin (a last name artist), David Hockney (arguably a full name artist), and Michelangelo (a first name artist). It’s fun to watch people look at the work with extremely studious expressions on their faces. Although it would be nicer if there were fewer people.
When I was a senior in high school, I wrote to one of my favorite artists, Maira Kalman, and asked if she had interns and if she’d like one. She said I could come reorganize her moss collection, walk her dog, and meet her mother. It was like peeking behind the curtain and finding the thing you’d both hoped for and dreaded: the actors still perfectly in character.