Wind, little birds and power lines

It was supposed to snow this morning but didn't. Instead it's clear, sunny, and 22 degrees F. Wispy, isolated clouds move way too fast, and white seeds fly through the air, teasing me into thinking they're snow flakes. The wind is so strong that the house keeps thrusting east, toward the Hudson River. Every so often I'll look out the window and see some poor sap leaning against the wind, hands hidden beneath arms.




I might go out for kicks (this day being the first in 5 odd years I've seen weather this cold), or at least to check the mail downstairs. More than likely I'll stay in and tidy things up. Remove my crap from the room of Drue's roommate, or clean the layers of collected scum from around the soap dispenser in the bathroom sink. There are dirty dishes to consider. Floors to be swept.

And more cover letters to write.

Umemployed, continued...

I spent all day today agonizing over minute job application details for positions I would most likely hate. The couch is my friend and enemy. My ass is tethered to it like a cow to a field of green grass; I sit on it for hours and take breaks between cover letter sentences, searching for people I know on MySpace, or looking at the latest satellite imagery on the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (aka "NOAA") web site.

Yesterday I got an insurance refund check in the mail for $17.77. I got very excited because it gave me an excuse to go to the bank. This is the first and only time I ventured out of the apartment on this day.

I walked for 5 or 6 blocks into Union City with the check in my jacket pocket. There's a good deal to see around here within 5 blocks.

There's usually a line at the bank. You generally have to wait 5 minutes or so before it's your turn at the ATM. There are 2 teller machines in an 8ft x 10ft room with one of those auto-locking doors you have to use your bank card to get into. There isn't enough room in there to accomodate a line of bored citizens, so most have to wait on the sidewalk for a while.

But eventually I got in there. I deposited my check and walked downhill back home.

I didn't take any pictures on the way back for some reason. Which is a shame because on the way home I stopped into this little vintage clothing store on 48th St. called Woho to look for a new coat, 'cause it's getting damn cold here right now. There was a fuzzy mustard-yellow coat I thought about getting. It was reversible; it turned into a rain coat if you wore it inside out. Maybe I'll go back for it after I get a job.

Perhaps I don't take pictures in those situations because there are other people around. I get self conscious and want to avoid having to explain what I'm doing. It's so much easier to aim the camera at the ground or some inanimate object when no one's looking. This way the act of taking pictures remains private, intimate. It becomes about negotiating little distances that separate my body from everything else, so that I can get to know this new place inch by inch.

Unemployed in New York

Well, technically that's in Weehawken, NJ, though you can spit at Manhattan from here. Here's a view from the end of the street, taken by Drue (my lovely, handsome man), with whom I'm currently staying.




Some background info: I just moved here from Austin, TX, 2 days before Halloween, and just before I was scheduled to do a solo art show at a gallery there (yes, back in Austin) called Women and Their Work. The rationale for that timing is far too complicated to get into, but the show in any case made for a great send-off opportunity, as I was leaving one way of life behind, and launching into another.







Drue and I returned to Weehawken the day after the show opened. Ever since, I've been spending many an hour on Drue's brown velveteen couch, writing emails and cover letters for job applications, hunting for press on my show, CHECKING emails, looking up weather reports, and finding other ways to waste vast amounts of time.

SO. To keep myself from losing my mind completely, I have started going out at least once a day to look at things. Get to know this massive, tangled complex of places that comprises the New York metropolitan area. And maybe, eventually, I'll start making things again, quite possibly much different things from what I was making before. We shall see.