Label:Indescript

Dating the wounded

I have a habit of dating wounded people. I dated a guy who had to wear an oxygen mask to bed at night because of his sleep apnea. I don’t think I could find a better example to illustrate my point.

I slept over at his place once. I wasn’t really all that into him, but one of the few perks of dating in the city is to see the inside of other people’s apartments. I always justify as research for the next time I need to move.

When we went to bed, he said goodnight, turned off the light, reached down and pulled the mask over his face. For a quick second I was torn on whether or not I wanted to look. On one hand, I did just make out with the guy who would now probably look like someone’s dying grandfather in a middle school play. But on the other hand, this was just too good to pass up.

The image was priceless. In the glow of the moonlight, I saw a giant mound of plastic covering his face, strapped to his head with a giant piece of Velcro that looped around both of his ears. The entire contraption could not have been comfortable.

He instantly fell asleep. I guess that’s what happens when you have a stream of pure oxygen rushing directly to your brain. I rolled back over away from him and listened to the low whispering sound of oxygen climbing from the machine, up through the tube, into the mask connected to his face, eventually reaching his nostrils. I was haunted by the sound, imagining it was the ghost of my future self telling me to quickly get up and leave before he woke up.

It took all of my energy in that moment not to laugh. Or maybe not to cry. 

The guy before that had just moved here from Canada. He didn’t have a job. Didn’t really even have a place to live. For all I knew, he was a homeless person, or convicted felon, who had found his way across the border to hide out for the rest of his life.

It lasted two dates. In the end, I was too afraid he might stab me and steal my identity, or at the very least, ask me for money. I’m still afraid I’ll run in to him on the N train on my way to work. He’ll be in the middle of his.

The guy before that didn’t have a job either. He was a struggling musician who couldn’t figure out if he should really be with his boyfriend. The boyfriend part didn’t come up until the third date. I didn’t really feel like sticking around to find out his conclusion on the matter.

Part of me wonders if my losing streak is coming to an end, or if I should just lower my standards instead. Either way, I’m not quite sure I’m not even close to throwing in the towel. My lease is up at the end of the year. I still have more research to do.

Do arts organizations really love the arts?

Okay, I’ll admit right off the bat, that question is purely subjective. There is absolutely no way one individual would be able to provide a reasonable answer, speaking on behalf of all arts organizations around the world. Furthermore, there are just too many different types of arts organizations out there, all run by completely different types of individuals, all supporting completely different types of arts, in very different places around the world that all have very different ways of supporting both the arts and arts organizations. Now, with that said, here’s my take on answering that question.

Yes. Arts organizations are all about the arts, otherwise, why would they even exist?

Let’s start with the positive argument. Starting, building and maintaining an arts organization takes a lot of work. And all too often, there really isn’t any financial reward that comes from building one or working in one. Most people that are attracted to a career in the arts administration side are artists themselves or individuals who are deeply passionate about the arts. The work isn’t always easy, but for them, the reward comes from knowing they are supporting something they love.

In addition to this, there is something to be said about the arts community at large. So many artists, arts administration professionals, patrons of the arts and appreciators that I’ve met throughout the years are really awesome people. There is a common language that we all share, regardless of whether we’re gazing at a canvas on a wall, a dance, a play, a film, or some other type of art. We all appreciate art for art’s sake and appreciate the intangible value that it brings to a community. To work within this community or run an organization that encourages members of this community to gather in one place means more time and more opportunities to get to know and build stronger relationships with these people.

No. At the end of the day, arts organizations act just like every other type of business.

With those things in mind, how could there be a counter argument? Well, it’s rather simple, actually. At the end of the day, arts organizations have to operate just like all other types of business. Keeping the doors open day after day takes significant funding. Fixed costs such as rent, heating/cooling, general building maintenance, city licenses/permits, insurance, as well as variable costs such as wages, rights for art presented in the space, marketing, artists’ fees and many other come into play. Costs add up rather quickly, which is why most arts organizations rely on public/private funding, corporate support, grants and community contributions. These costs have a way of rather quickly turning the focus from an organization away from the art and onto the efforts of running a business. 

The problem is only exacerbated during a recession. Public funding is cut, corporations are less giving, more organizations are competing for a constantly shrinking pool of grants and individuals are less like to open their wallets. Under these conditions, organizations start to make decisions that increase chances of survival, but don’t always align with their mission. Some organizations start to make selfish decisions to preserve salaries, reputations and so on, often at the expense of the art. Investors throw funding behind sure-things, rather than taking risks on something new. These behaviors often continue to grow and worsen over time.

So where’s the happy medium?

Maybe that’s the most troubling part of all, there really isn’t a happy medium. If you speak to a lot of artists, they’ll tell you that business and art don’t mix. Unless you’re an artist using business as your art (Warhol, Banksy, Matter, etc), the business side of things just gets in the way. Creativity goes out the window when energy is forced to be spent on focusing on the bottom line.

So it begs the question, how do we resolve this issue? How do we create organizations that bring out all of the benefits of bringing artists and communities of arts lovers together, without compromising the art itself? Are there organizations that are doing it right? And if so, has anyone really peeked behind the curtain to figure out if this really is the case? Or what about organizations in Europe that fall under a different model, due to government support?

All of these are questions worth answering. The arts are so important to any community. Without these organizations, many artists don’t have an outlet for sharing their work. And furthermore, members of a community don’t have a place to experience art. So while the model may be flawed, the need is clearly there. It’s time to get arts organizations back on track and back in love with the arts.

Arts and crafts in the kitchen

In a time when restaurants seem to be going further and further to try and woo over customers, things can get a bit campy quite quickly. Now, I’m not knocking campy completely. There’s certainly a bit of art and bedazzling that goes into (successfully) creating campy, especially campy that works. But at the end of the day, it’s hard not to appreciate real creativity, skill and a good old fashion blend of arts and crafts in the kitchen. After all, who cares if there are neon goldfish swimming through the walls when the food finds a way to speak for itself.

Watch the Momofuku Test Lab video on Gizmodo here to see what I mean.

My love/hate with music technology

I’ve had an iPod (in some form) for more years than I can remember. With that, I’ve used iTunes since I was in high school (don’t count). Things have certainly changed in the way that we consume music, due to more and more advancements and ideas in music technology. As a consumer and huge music appreciator, it’s made things a bit difficult, at times, frustrating.

First off, how the hell do I organize all of my music so that I can actually listen to it? Ever since I was a little kid, I started collecting music. First on cassette tapes, then on CDs. When I was in college, I worked for Warner Music Group and accumulated more CDs than an indie music store. Over time, I’ve tried to rip all of these CDs onto my computer, weeding out the music I’ll never listen to again, praying my CD drive won’t give out on my MacBook Pro. But now, I have an incredibly large amount of music on my computer (I’m about halfway through the CDs), and I have absolutely no idea how/when I’ll listen to most of it.

If you sat down and actually surveyed the amount of music that I listen to in my music collection on my computer, you’d find out that the numbers are downright depressing. Even on my 16GB iPhone 4, I listen to no more than 30% of the music I’ve uploaded on a regular basis. One great example is the Prince “Musicology” album that I just listened to the other week for the first time since probably the concert in 2001.

So how do we fix this new-found fickleness with music? Our own music collections and the way we consume music are turning into a homemade version of TRL without the celebrity guests and crowds in Times Square (well, depending on where you work). With Apple’s cloud storage launching this fall, I fear the problem will only continue to intensify.

With all of the advancements in music technology out there, where’s the help tool that’s going to help me appreciate my music, not just store it? For now, I’ll still wrack my brain trying to figure it out for myself.

Stuck in New York City

I want to leave the city. I want to move somewhere new, somewhere I’ve never been before. I want to find a new career, a new life, new friends and a new home. I want to build a home. I want to build a place I’m proud to call my home.

I want room to paint. I want room to cook. I want a place to sit outside. I want peace and quiet. I want a place to read, a place to sleep, a place to watch TV, a place to be me.

I want to drive a car. I want to stand on the beach. I want to know all of the people in my town. I want to smile at people while I walk down the street. I want to feel big enough to make a difference.

I want, but I don’t need. I don’t need any of it. I just need to be here, because here is now. Here is where I have responsibilities. Here is where my life is until it isn’t.

Here is New York City. Here is where I’m stuck. Here is where I couldn’t think to be anywhere else. Here is where I’m a part of anything and everything all at once. Here is both heaven and hell.

Here is New York City.

Standing the heat

Hot. Sweat. Sticky.

Headache. Blurry. Crowded. Anxious.

Pain. Impatient. Slow.

Humidity. Frustrated. Embarrassed.

Gross. Smell. Fire. Burning. Wreak.

Anger. Hurt.

Sick.

Summer…in…New…York…City…

Fuck.

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Normally, I hate the heat. I’m the first person to complain, to refuse to go outside, to hate the sun, to refuse to take the subway anywhere. Summer in New York City sucks.

But this year, I’m taking a different approach. I bought shorts. Several pairs of shorts. I brought out the tank tops from under my bed. I even wore one. Outside of the apartment.

I don’t have an air conditioner. I couldn’t find one that fit in my tiny ass windows. I hate my windows. I bought an oscillating fan instead. It was on sale at Target. That’s my head nod to Mother Nature this year.

And fine, it hasn’t gotten that hot yet this year. It’s only June, after all. Check in with me in August. I might be singing a different song.

But I hope that isn’t the case. I’m on a mission. This summer, I’m going to love living in New York City. I’m going to wear shorts. With tank tops. Outside of the apartment.

I bought a pair of sunglasses. I wore them even today when it was cloudy. Sunglasses make you feel like it’s at least five degrees cooler outside.

Maybe I’ll even go to the beach. Maybe I’ll save that for next year. Baby steps.

Hello summer.