Subways and Cityscapes

A few observations about New Yorkers: They all watch Law and Order.  They swear A LOT.  I've never cared, but this city is like being inside Quentin Tarantino's head.  And I wouldn't say that they're neurotic, just more neurotic than a Texan.  There are anti-fast food ads here featuring sad, fat little diabetic amputees, and anti-smoking ads that consider the SALE of tobacco to be "cigarette marketing." The goal of these ads is to outlaw tobacco/fast food from the state completely.  Not that I love unhealthy living, but you guys know me well enough.  I believe the ability to make bad choices, fail, and learn is an important part of life. 

Timour and Galina's loft is in a city call "Cliffside", and a cliff it is!  I have hardly walked anywhere quite as steep.  The flowering dogwoods and lawn ornaments of suburbia plummet abruptly into the Hudson, and the city just...ends!  Water, then New York.  The view from the coast looks a bit like this:

 

The vista from the Jersey shore. (snicker)

Non-New Yorkers always find this view impressive, but I must say, Times Square is my least favorite part of the city.  It is shoulder-to-shoulder crowded and full of lost, slow-moving tourists.  Food here is un-authentic and expensive, and it is in every sense of the word, a circus.  I overheard another tourist comparing it to Las Vegas.  In my opinion, it's like living inside a television that's stuck on commercials all day long.

 

Nonetheless, my work at Larry's Band is still primarily couriering, so I trek through these claustrophobic squares daily.

I love this bit of lobby art, found just inside a building that I delivery hard drives to.
Soho isn't much less crowded, but its old buildings and chic shop facades make for nicer scenery.  And this park alone makes Soho worth walking through.

Just enter one unassuming gate...

...And suddenly you are surrounded by flora and fountains!  Mind you, this park is maybe 700 sq ft.  Outside the gate is the screeching tires and snaring horns of taxis, the ubiquitous sewer stench that hangs cloying onto the city's every cement inch, but in here, it's a floral oasis.  Thank God for these parks.  Time just melts away inside these things.  I hope the locals appreciate these respites in their strobing information-overload of a day as much as I do.

Not far from the park, this was scrawled on a wall.  The line between wall mural and graffiti blurs here.  I suppose you would define the difference like this:  A wall mural is a desirable addition to the city, while graffiti is consider defacing of property.

But this piece was HUGE and signed with pride.  That's a mural in my book.

The Canal St Station give one access to Chinatown, Little Italy and Soho.  I have spent my share of time wondering Chinatown, and it is easily the best place to buy food and groceries.  Street venders splay onto the sidewalk hocking everything from jade Buddhas to knock-off bags and shoes.  It gives you the illusion that you are strolling through a real-world version of Ebay.  There also seem to be more aggressive creepers and hustlers in Chinatown.  More than one strange man offered to buy me something when they caught me peering through a window.  Slowing down to read a menu is right out!

Exhausted, but with successfully procured groceries, I snap a photo off my reflection on an empty car.

Per Oguz's suggestion I stopped by the three-story Toys-R-Us in Times Square.

It has an indoor Ferris wheel!

I managed to get a hold of $5 tickets to Carnegie Hall: a few choral requiems and a very traditional venue of white, red and gold.

I live half my life in the subway.

They're brimming with performers, and I have seen accordians, guitars, jazz ensemble, mariachis, blues singers, and dancers.  Every day is "flash mob" day in these things.

I used to have a childhood fear of the subway scene from The Wiz. Every time I'm underground I imagine myself getting chomped to bits by a sentient, man-eating trash can.

Subway graffiti normally consists of mustaches, blacked-out teeth, racial slurs or phalli.  This advice though, I couldn't agree with more.

The setting sun lit up this skyscraper as I walked toward BAM in Brooklyn.

These manhole vents spewing hot sewer-gases are a common site.  For reference, it was a 70 degree day. 

Taxis...

14th-8th St station has these weird, fat little bronze statues scattered through the area.

There's a dark humor to them.  Many of these odd, adorable little things are hobos, Wall Street execs, etc, all pantomiming an eternal satire.

And then some of them just look like this.

Money Bags getting eaten by an alligator.

This is Bushwick, just outside of Morgan Ave Station.

It's the neighborhood Lily lives in.

It's part industrial inner city, part art community.

But the locals have a nickname for hipsters here: ATMs.  This is because mugging hipsters is lucrative and wholesome family fun here.  Terrifying.

Lots of keen graffiti though.  The Occupy movement is big here.

Next time: Job Searching.

Photo Dump: Food Adventures I

Let's talk food!  There is a LOT of choice to be had in NYC, and honestly, that doesn't really work for the benefit of the food adventurer.  Yelping and even asking most locals really doesn't lead you to culinary Nirvana (Vastly, locals are just like everyone else in the country: eating at Dominos and Chipotle).  There was a bit of a learning curve to tackling the massive culinary potential of this diverse city, but I found the common denominator to all my successful foodie finds: bilingual locals.  Ah yes, My favorite superpower strikes again. My bilingual friends: you are so damn awesome.

My first adventures involve bagels and coffee because I tend to be in Manhattan an hour before Larry's Band opens its doors.  I started at the Bread Factory, a common chain here, and if you get the bagels fresh, they are divine.  If not, they are dry and chewy.  That's a little inconsistent for Starbucks prices, but the scallion cream cheese spread is rumored to be the best in the city.  From my experience, this is in fact the case.  A better (at least more consistent) buy is found in the Fashion District's Best Bagels.  The true perk of this ever-packed hole in the wall was the truly best cup of coffee in my life.  I can't even explain it. There was no special equipment.  It just was.

 

The bread factory does spot an impressive assortment of confectionery delights.

Another common NYC chain is PAX, a pizza and lunch joint.  It's similar to Sbarro's, but clearly marks the calories of EVERYTHING.

 A few cooks doing their thing in the PAX kitchens.

 

 The hostel I stayed at warned guest to not consume food of a contraband sort: the notorious durian.

The East Village is by far becoming my favorite part of town.  There is art, hipsters, bodegas, coffee shops, food, and theater.  Oddity shops, crafty small businesses, and high-end second hand stores are EVERYWHERE, but my best find is the East Village Meat Market. I had actually been walking toward St Marks Pl, a self professed "Little Japan", to enjoy some east-coast sushi, but this store facade stopped me in my tracks:

 Behold its Glory.

 Dear God, I have made it through the wilderness and this is Paradise. 

 It was shoulder-to-shoulder crowded in this deli, and I was out of my element.  I had no idea what to do.  For a while I just allowed the sea of bodies to toss me around as I scanned the shelves of Mustard and Rye, refrigerators of caviar, and walls and walls of smoked meats.  Everything smelled so good.  I approached the counter and asked the fair-haired boy working there for something delicious.  He good-naturedly said that their kielbasa was the most popular item.

The best meal of my entire life only set me back $8.

I left the store with a cheese blintz, sauerkraut croquette, pierogis in sauteed onions, and a wedge of kielbasa.  They wrapped each item in butcher's paper and I escaped the through the wall of humanity back onto the quiet street.  The next task was finding a place to sit, enjoy a drink, and unwrap the spoils of battle.  A a chair is a hard thing to find in this city, so I walked up to a bar and asked if I could sit for a beverage.  Looking over the drink menu, I came clean with the bartender: "What it the cheapest, low-end beer in the bar?" 
"We have Bud Light for $7," she responded unblinkingly.  Obviously she did not understand the foul affront just uttered from her lips.  I gave up and sat on the steps of a church.  It truly was the best meal of my life.

Mitsuwa Japanese Market is within walking distance from Timour's place so I went out to do a little grocery shopping.  While I was there, I had to partake in some of the treats being served up in their HUGE food court.

 

 Taiyaki is a Japanese "cake" shaped like a fish, and I couldn't resist.  Here, the fine ladies of Mitsuwa pour the Taiyaki batter into shaped griddles.

  

 It's essentially a waffle filled with adzuki bean paste.

 I ordered a simple soba served with pickles and finished with my cute little Taiyaki!

 I am sad to announce that Little Italy is touristy, overpriced and nothing special.  It's like the Disney version of Italy.  Now this does not mean that you can't have the BEST Italian of your life while visiting here.  My best experience so far was at Pomodoro Pizza in Fort Lee, NJ (That's right, New Jersey).  It's so good that I've only been here a few weeks and I've eaten here twice.  I order their Ancona pie, a sauce-less pizza of fresh mozzarella, spinach, and garlic, dolloped with large pools of slightly-sweet ricotta. We have a new favorite.

 

 I could eat this pizza for ever meal if it didn't make you smell like garlic for hours (days) afterward.

Feeling a little indulgent, I end with a cannoli and espresso.  

When I get back to Dallas, I'm throwing an Italian dinner party.  I never make it because Dad is from New York and pasta dishes were all we ever ate growing up.  It was the first food I learned how to make, and I never found it as interesting as Thai or Japanese or even Mexican Food.  But here on the east coast, I see a lot of my Dad's "isms."  I realize that I have a lot of preferences in common with people here because they are his preferences.  It's very surreal because I never saw myself as urban, northern, or progressive-all the things I thought defined this city.  Either way, It's high time to give Italian cuisine a second shot.

A General Update: Bittersweet

I'm finding that I love this city.  That's what stresses me out.  Allow me to start at the beginning:

Augenblick is a company that I have dreamed of working for since I was 15.  Two years ago, I spammed them with offers of my service, and didn't get ONE reply.  Not one email, call or text - utter radio silence.  This, I conjectured, was a reasonable response.  Augenblick Studios is VERY high-profile, with shows airing on both Comedy Central and Cartoon Network, they are a visible presence in the industry and quite hard to approach.

This brings me to earlier this week.  I drop by with doughnuts and WOW! does it work.  They are thrilled, and I get a next day response.  They're full for the summer, but interested in having me intern in September.  I tell my supervisor at Larry's Band, and she is founded-dumb.  "Augenblick?!" she laughs, "Do you know how many of my interns have tried to get in there?"  All of them.  Who wouldn't want to work on the violent, immature, MTV humor of Ugly Americans or Superjail?  It's a childhood dream!  My childhood dream.

Every Thursday at the resistor, there is some form of journalist or documenteur.  A week ago, the bright-eyed Maggie Jung of NYU buzzed around the space like a child seeing the world for the first time.  She was making a documentary on the hacker phenomena and after a disappointing weekend spent with a vocal sect of NYC Anonymous, Maggie finally found what she was looking for at the Resistor.  Those representing Anonymous had no interest in technology or hacking, but instead an interest in protesting.  They gathered at any event worth picketing like professional mourners of a Biblical age - loud and visible, but with no real investment in the cause.  Furthermore, due to new laws passed within the city, they were no longer able to protest with faces covered, rendering them, well, "nonymous." I too shared Maggie's disappointment.

This week I met the lovely Amanda DeMatto of Gizmodo who is doing a series of pieces called Where the Magic Happens, highlighting amazing workspaces of this brave new era of art and technology.

I only just yesterday realized that Makerbot was in the same building as the Resistor.

I attended the Bust Magazine Craftacular, and made a friend that works for the 9/11 Memorial.  After the craft show, we grabbed a pork bun, some bubble tea, and a crunchy, pan-fried tofu pudding of gelatinous goodness and sat in Columbus park for the good portion of the afternoon.  Columbus Park is beautiful and green, with falling flowers lazily wafting into our lunch, bees lulling in slow circles around the perfumed stamens of creeping phlox and traditional Chinese music plucking over amplifiers.  We watch the locals of Chinatown play baseball across the square and older people in and ancient stone gazebo practice Tai Chi.  A man presumably in his eighties sat next to us, charming a squirrel into his lap.  He seemed equally pleased at our delight as we were at the squirrel.  I lost time and got a bit of a sunburn in that park.

The Bust Craftacular.

In a hysterical coincidence, Lily Su KNOWS this Jewelry artist.

This Brooklyn company makes beautiful terrariums.

This is a shot of Columbus Park.

Williamsburg is considered the Hipster heart of New York City.  From what I can tell, there is indeed plenty handlebar mustaches to go around.  I attend a guided gallery walk there and sip absinthe cocktails with those in-the-know.  Many of the galleries have gimmicks like part gallery/part table tennis collective or part gallery/part sex shop.  (I'm starting to see a trend in this city of erotic shops that cater almost exclusively to women - trendy, girly spaces that share NOTHING in common with the overwhelming creep-factor seen in and around Harry Hines.  I keep being handed coupons and literature on women's workshops and vibe classes that are housed in shops more akin to tea rooms than porn stores.  Weird.) 

This installation was fun.  Visible from the outside, but walk in and the lighting made the fog within milky and opaque.

Beside me: Quoc, a Jewelry artist; directly behind me: Vee who geeked out with me over the uncanny valley displayed in the mannequins of the Jean Paul Gaultier exhibition; behind her: Makeba, a doll artist.

After the gallery walk we had dinner together.

Mexican: nothing to write home about, but very cool muraling!

Earlier this week I attended a show of Naked Girls Read: Shakespeare.  This hosted a bawdy collection of sonnets and excerpts from the Bard's plays staying mostly in a humorous or erotic vein, but flirting with the dramatic.  The actresses were world class.  All of them had at one time or another been on broadway, and in truth, I have never seen a rendering of Shakespere's works preformed so well.  That said, these ladies bared their bodies as well as their souls.  One may sport a feathered poet's cap, a tall pair of leather boots, or a ruffled Elizabethan collar, but that was it!  Their lovely body types ranged from super skinny, to the goldilocks (just right) perfection of a 1950's pin-up girl, and even the round curves of a woman representing the heavyweights (you go girl!).   Every one of them brought beauty and talent. Overall my experience could be described as enlightening, hysterical, and....jiggly.

This same troupe host a monthly erotic show called D20 Burlesque that is exactly what is sounds like.  Internet memes, Joss Whedon, H.P. Lovecraft, Star Trek and other nerdy themes are the focus of the show. 

I go everywhere with Lily, it seems.  I see her 2-3 times a week.  Her hunger for knowledge and eagerness to improve the world around her is infectious, and I find myself being amazed that a girl with so much talent and panache goes out of her way to hang out with me.  She is easily the jewel of my trip so far.  Yesterday, exhausted from a frustrating and fruitless day of job-searching, I dragged myself to an event being held at the BAM dance studios per Lily's invite.  I am SO glad I went.  NYC Volumetrics, a local technology collective was teaming up with a handful of dancers to test some Xbox Kinect hacks.  One of the most interesting examples was a series of code that translated a dancer's movements into music.  (changing tone and pitch based on how low she stooped, high she jumped, the wingspan of her arms, etc.) It was fascinating! 

Approaching the Mark Morris Dance building.

A few dance students were gracious enough to provide their time.

And they put in three straight hours of work for our observation!

After dinner, I followed Lily to her home and shared the best bowl of cup noodles in my life.  I really feel like I'm in the right place at the right time.  She hugged me for the first time as I left down the subway and we made plans for tea.  I couldn't believe how nice it was to share a hug.  Ever since I got to this city, I've been mashed into a thousand strangers, but most people baulk at the offering to shake your hand.  New Yorkers are a touch quiet and aloof compared to me, and I've been reserved compared to my normal behavior for fear of being labeled a bumpkin or a rube.  That farewell hug was the most human thing I've experienced in weeks.

So why if I'm experiencing such amazing and diverse things, did I label my update "Bittersweet"?  I am truly stressed over money.  Every day I watch my savings slip from simple things like transportation or printing business cards.  I have REALLY be pounding the pavement in my job search, up to eight hours on my days off, four on the days that I work.  I average around two job interviews every weekday.  I am SO CLOSE to working for Augenblick that I can taste it.  Somehow I HAVE to find a way to remain in the city.  Wish me luck, you guys.