Showing posts with label the met. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the met. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

NYC Photography.


A couple of weeks ago I was in New York City. I love New York City and New York City loves me. Below are a few of my pictures. If you follow my Instagram (jjbezerra) then you have already seen a few of these. If you don’t follow my Instagram, why the hell not? I’m fascinating.


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This is a picture of a trash compactor I saw at JFK airport. The trash compactor was on his way to a family reunion in Queens.




This is the view from the back seat of a cab on the way to Queens (the trash compactor and I split the fare).




This is a ballerina in Central Park. She was quite graceful and I was sad when the trash compactor compacted her, but that is what trash compactors do.




This is a noseless bust on the first floor of the Met. We made fun of his deformity. You could say that the compactor and I trash talked him. (That was a trash compactor-related pun.)




One from Monet’s series of haystack paintings. (Pssst … the one at The Getty is better. GO LA!) 




A bunch of Met day pass stickers.




This is a super cool picture I took while riding the super cool tram out to Roosevelt Island (which is cool, but not super cool). The compactor did not get to come because apparently you’re not allowed to bring trash compactors on trams. Because the New York MTA is obviously run by racists. Or at the very least, Luddites.




Happy graffiti with a power plant in the background.




Brazen New York City thieves!




A blurry picture taken while tripping over my own feet in Central Park.




If you stay on the subway while it turns around, then you too can swing around like this.




A black and white cookie which I ate and did not even offer to share with you.




I really like how this picture came out. This is Saint Thomas Church reflected in a window across the street and then I messed with the filters until it looked like the this.




The sailboat pond in Central Park.




A cocktail napkin. Upper Eastside. 2014.




Your humble author. Look how sad I am on my way back to the airport. It’s because the trash compactor did not meet me on the observation deck of the Empire State Building like he had promised.



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Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Reblogged.


From time to time I re-fall in love with life. I just had one of those profound moments of reflection.

Alfred Hitchcock said, “Drama is life with the dull parts taken out.”

Well I agree that 70 – 80% of life is tedium and monotony, but that other 30 – 20% is pure wonderfulness.

I realized that I have been to New York and Boston. I have been to London and St. Louis, Paris, Orlando, and I have eaten fried chicken in Philadelphia with my grandmother (whom I miss dearly). I have had sangria on the roof of the Met (one of my favorite places in the world) and I have watched the sky turn green in Ozark Missouri before a thunder storm. I’ve been to Branson and Las Vegas. I have stood at the top of the Eiffel Tower and at the top of the fake one at the Paris Casino. I have been thrown out of bars in San Francisco and loaned my jacket to a naked stripper in Fresno, who was trying to catch some ZZZs on the couch. I have been lucky enough to fall in love and unlucky enough to get stranded at Heathrow for two days. I’ve had fish thrown over my head at Pike’s Place Market in Seattle and I have stumbled ass backward into fist fights in Sun Valley. I personally discovered that the snow in Park City Utah is nature’s best beer cozy and also have experienced a couple of sublimely perfect days in Salt Lake City; there’s nothing quite as perfect as being in love in the cold. I have smoked cigarettes in San Diego while listening to Nada Surf live while landing jets passed overhead. I’ve driven a rented Vauxhall (on the wrong side of the road) all the way to Stonehenge and walked the world’s best museum in Shelburne Vermont. I have nearly died on a kayak off the coast of Catalina and I have been deliriously in love on 17-Mile-Drive around Pebble Beach. I have straddled the Prime Meridian and the US-Mexico border; for that matter I have flown a kite under a pier on a Mexican beach and personally haggled over the price of a lobster dinner. I have watched a Minute Man III missile launch from Vanderburgh before the sun had come up and I have stood on the flight deck of an operational aircraft carrier, with Tchaikovsky blaring in my headphones. I have known more amazing women than is fair and I have been lucky enough to love some of them and to be loved in return. I have unhooked corsets in dark rooms and made love on a bare stage (empty audience). I have been found guilty in court of a misdemeanor and I have cried in front of more than one therapist. I have fallen in love with the Brooklyn Bridge and been terrified by the Coronado Bridge. And next week I will go white water rafting on the Sacramento River and the week after I will hike into the Grand Canyon and then ride a helicopter out of it. There is no end to the things that I love about life, and while life never seems easy at the time, it is simply and always worth the effort.  

From time to time I re-fall in love with life.  

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