(Video link here.) We fully intended to spend the day working but have found it nearly impossible. We can’t help but be focused on Sandy, which comedian Louis C.K. called “monster sandy franken storm Paul Bunyon shitcloud might start throwing trees at babies in Manhattan”, “the stormatron 5000″.
We’re hunkered downwith candles, flashlights, battery-powered radios, a full larder and a bathtub full of water in case, waiting. New York City is eery: we’ve seen pictures of Times Square and Grand Central, two of the busiest spots in town, without a soul. The wind and rain have been escalating all morning, the trees in the park across the way whipping furiously, at once beautiful and disturbing. A line from the Peter Pan records we listened to as a kid popped into our head this morning: “Wendy had the distinct feeling that something was about to happen.”
The wind has picked up in the huge trees in the park across the way. TV news is reporting mandatory evacuations around the city, as the confluence of full moon, the jet stream and hurricane Sandy’s massive size threatens major flooding and power outages. The sky is straight our of a Ghostbuster’s movie; we’re waiting for the storm to hit.
We spent the morning walking around Harlem gathering supplies, as others did…prescriptions, cash, batteries. We stopped to listen to the joyous gospel that spilled from the windows of a church. As we wandered, we planned our supplies and strategy should the power go out. We’re definitely not into Powerbars; but into REAL as long as we can maintain it.
At the Corner Perk Cafe in Bluffton, SC, an anonymous donor pays for the coffee of anyone in line behind them until the funds run out. Two years ago this idea caught on and now people donate regularly, or even stop by to donate without buying anything. It made us wonder about the principle of random acts of generosity — just because — with no obvious return other than the pleasure of giving freely, making someone happy, or making something better.
We recently took a walk in the park across the way and thought, ‘hmm, what would happen if we just started picking up trash?‘ We would be surprised if we saw an ordinary person doing it; wouldn’t it surprise others? Could this become contagious? What kinds of little kindnesses can you imagine doing just for the hell of it? read more…
Once we had a rough plan and sketches for the Laboratory renovation, we needed to take them to the next level: real, accurately measured, to-scale architect’s plans. How do you afford an architect on a very tight budget, we wondered.
This is where we made the first of MANY mistakes during the renovation. We hired someone from Craigslist who advertised himself as a graduate of a pre-architecture graduate program; he made his living by drawing plans and his references checked out well, so we hired him. He arrived at the space with a laser measuring device, and completed measuring a 1000 sq feet in 30 minutes or so.
He emailed the plans a few days later. They looked strangely “off” so we ran up to the space with our trusty measuring tape. At least 10 key measurments were wrong.
The practice of making a retreat – taking oneself OUT of everyday life to withdraw and reflect – has been around for eons. It is part of many spiritual traditions, and to our thinking, should be a requirement for everyone (and paid for by insurance – ha) , so filled as our lives are with doing and action. It’s something that people – including us – used to do a lot more, because life is intense no matter how you slice it and there’s much to reflect on. Sometimes retreating is the only way to see, and detach.
A retreat is a bit different than a vacation, because retreats generally are about taking refuge from the world, notdoing, and about attending to the spirit. Just being. Listening. Taking stock. read more…
We are smitten with Tinybop, a site of books, apps, videos, toys for kids. The curating is GREAT here. Many of their suggestions will help your child-in-mind (or you) to bloom.
We’ve found a ton of stuff that WE want. Dig these cool apps: read more…
We were knocked out by the insanely colorful streetscape made by a Lebanese team of artists/designers, known as dihzahyners, in Beirut.
We imagined how the the worst and bleakest urban neighborhoods we’ve traveled through would be TRANSFORMED by color. All it takes is paint, vision, collective effort: read more…
We are big fans of tattoos — permanent or impermanent — as a tool for living, and have posted quite a bit about them: to-do lists, uplifting signs, reminders of one sort or another. We recently tweeted about an 81 year-old woman who tattooed “Do Not Resuscitate” on her chest, so concerned was she about being kept alive against her wishes.
The Improvised Life’s remarkable assistant, Dese’Rae L. Stage, has A LOT of words and quotes tattoo’d on her body. We wondered if they were reminders or something else. So we asked her how she chose them, the story behind them, what they did.
(Video link here.) We laughed out loud at Samuel L. Jackson’s new video, an exortation for apathetic Obama supportors to get off their asses and take some action in the election. (It’s a play on his last year’s wildly successful children’s story “Go the Fu*k to Sleep.) It worked; we donated some $$ for a start.
And we figure that whatever side your on, the deeper message is essential: take part in the politics of your nation; it’s your home.
In the process of planning our Laboratory’s renovation, we called on a number of friends for advice: designers, artists, and people who just had plain good sense of one kind or another. When I told artist friend Lisa Morphew of the prices some of the contractors we’d spoken to were quoting us she said: “Honey, what you want to do isn’t rocket science. It shouldn’t cost so much.” Lisa, who had worked construction and transformed a wreck of a house in North Carolina into a wondrous space, proceeded to give us a lesson in how our place was made.
Pointing to the sheetrock wall that bisected the living rooms and second bedroom which we were dying to take down, she said “I could take that down with a shovel if you have one. I’ll show you how easy it is, and you’ll understand how it’s made”. A shovel?!! We didn’t have a shovel on hand so we went around to the hardware store and bought one then and there. We weren’t going to miss the chance to see that wall come down.
Lisa, and a friend, proceeded to demolish the wall in less than half an hour. read more…
(Video link here.) This video about the private little games people (especially kids) play in their heads reminded me of one I’ve been playing for years.
When I walk by a really tacky store–say, of clothes or furniture–I look at the display and imagine, if I absolutely had to, how or what would I choose and alter and arrange to make it appear somehow stylish. For example, when I’m in the garment district passing store windows with cheesey nylon evening gowns, I imagine which I would pick if I had to wear it to some occasion, and what would I do to make it work. It’s my own private design challenge.
It’s made for endless hours of secret design fantasy and problem solving while walking around the city.
What private little games do you play in your head?
In the past we’ve seen dumpsters transformed into adhoc-ish swimming pools. Even easier to do is to turn dumpsters into giant planters, the brain child of designer Michael Bernstein called “Ten Yards of Futopia.” Imagine them scattered around a city. They’d act like mobile public parks, bringing blasts of NATURE (from gardens to forests) to urban settings. Since dumpsters come in all different sizes, the mini parks could be tailored to various spaces. We’d paint em to get rid of the ultra gritty aspect and perpetuate the new illusion: futopia…
It’s lonely being a writer. Sometimes I go for days without seeing another human being except my husband or the barista at the local coffee bar. When I’m deep into a book project, I try to remain focused. My phone calls with friends are, “Can I call you back? I’m in the middle of searching for the right adjective.”
Although some days, I send an email to my friend Rick that goes something like this, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. My client in Chicago is driving me bonkers. And my feet are burning from stomping out ten other fires. Meet for cocktails at 6? Signed, Miserable in Manhattan.”
Rick responds, “You betcha. I’ve been testing recipes for a diet book since 5 a.m. and writing a book proposal for a supermarket chain. Heading out to buy more groceries for testing. Later.”
At precisely 6 p.m., as I’m pouring some cold vodka into a glass and adding some olives and olive juice, the phone rings. When I pick up, I hear Rick’s voice and the clink of ice cubes going into a glass on the other end of the line. Time for our ritual end-of-the-day phone cocktails: Phone-tails. read more…
(Video link here.) As an artist in residence at MIT, Trevor Paglen worked with materials scientists to develop an ultra-archival disc of images, capable of lasting in space for billions of years. He meant this disc to contain a “cultural mark”, that would portray our world long after it might have disappeared altogether. He interviewed scientists, artists, anthropologists, and philosophers to consider what such a cultural mark should be, and ultimately settled on 100 photos. The disc of photos will be sent into space this month.
. One of our favorites: 
