Made a glowing ruby red tea

BIRTHDAY PART II

I was insanely productive on Friday. I did laundry, baked a focaccia (topped with garlic, green onion, rosemary, sea salt, and so much OIL), baked a cake (buttermilk strawberry - but let’s not talk about how it turned out), and made a kale-and-turkey frittata for lunch.

Then, as late afternoon approached, it was time to activate the Culture Pass for the second day in a row for a gratis visit to the Museum of the Moving Image.

Outside, some roses were resting, while others were poised to open at the next suggestion of sun.

The day was cold and damp, but it didn’t bother me one bit. For my birthday, I splurged on a waterproof trench from RAINS (recommended by Susan Orlean on her substack), and I was excited for the opportunity to give it a spin.

I should really make a point to come to the MoMI more often. It blows my mind every time. Got a heady art high from Gregory Barsamain’s Feral Fount, a stroboscopic zoetrope made of 94 subtly shape-shifting sculptures.

Stopped by the Auriea Harvey exhibition My Veins Are the Wires, My Body Is Your Keyboard. The above is the only picture I took, but it really isn’t the type of exhibition (much like Feral Fount above) where pictures will do any justice. I emplore you, mystery reader, to drop what you’re doing and GO.

Auriea is a sculptor and video game designer who found early success as a net artist in the ‘90s. In this exhibit, her websites and collaborative art pieces were displayed on old desktop computers, emulating a Windows '98 interface. Time just dropped away as I clicked around every corner of every page, scanning inscrutable manifestos and chat boxes, trying to find hidden switches to unlock new layers of the maze.

This is what being a kid on the internet in 1998 was like. Link to link to link. Glittery, graphic-filled webpages that each had their own look and accent. Rooms within rooms. No searching, just finding. This was when clicking to a new page on the internet could entice yet unsettle you - or even give you a jump scare - with unexpected music, strobing gifs, or strange cursor functions.

In a sublime daze, I walked downstairs and into the surreal Tut’s Fever movie palace. A completely hand-painted, 30-seat, working reproduction of the movie houses of the 1920s. Somehow didn’t even think to get a picture of the movie screen, which was playing (of course) an episode of The Muppet Show.

I love museums. They’re the first thing I think to do in my downtime or when visiting a new city. I skim and scan certain rooms and study others. Some give me a meaningful education, some I rush through too quickly, some leave me cold or bored or deeply disturbed. This whole trip was… life-changing? I haven’t felt this full of inspiration and wonder since seeing the Museum of Jurassic Technology back in February.

It feels like Kid Melanie is back at the helm. So much of the stuff I saw here today reminded me of the imaginative, playful, mysterious, digital world I grew up in. I want to redirect all my energy toward feeling this ineffable wonder at every possible opportunity.

BIRTHDAY PART I

Every once in a while, you have to reboot the ol’ machine. You need to force-quit. You have to unplug it, blow on it, and try it again.

The best way to do that, I’ve found, is to take a couple days off from work to be away from the scrolling slog, commune with art, and do as much walking as you possibly can. It doesn’t have to be your birthday, but it does help!

In the lead-up to this day, I was very bummed about the less-than-beautiful forecast, since I’d hoped to spend my birthdaycation lolling around in the sun and getting minimal steps in. Nope. Finally accepting reality at age 34, I reserved a Culture Pass for the MoMA and headed to midtown.

Finally visited Myzel’s Chocolates. Est. 1990, like me. Bought a trio of mint, banana, and coconut truffles from Kamila Myzel herself, a true kindred spirit.

In a 2009 interview with the NYT, she said, “I love art. Just give me the museums, I don’t need vacation. I need vacation, yes, but I love the museums. I have a group of friends. We go to see old movies. We like good jazz.”

And then, the MoMA! It was as MoMA as it ever was. I hadn’t had a good, thorough visit in such a long time.

The surrealism collection is my favorite part. It’s what sparked my fascination with art as a little kid. Here we have Leonora Carrington and Joseph Cornell.

Did not commune with the Persistence of Memory, but that’s ok.

After the MoMA, I walked 10-ish blocks to the NYPL, hoping to see the Picture Collection. WELL, looks like you’ll need to be a researcher (of what?) to gain access to that. Luckily, the library has an exquisite permanent collection called Treasures that I’d never seen before.

It reinvigorated my love of art nouveau and Alphonse Mucha.

Last stop? A meal of pure decadence at Mar’s. Pictured here is a Mar’s bar: chocolate ganache, candied thyme, sea salt, caramel. And then I walked home and watched an episode of The Kardashians, as is my wont.

Even though I spent my birthday on my own, friends and loved ones were ringing in from every time zone as far as Rio to wish me well. I was moved to tears multiple times by the outpouring of love. It was a pretty sweet day, I have to say.

Missing the sun desperately, I biked to Sunnyside on Saturday. Had to stop at H Mart first to pick up some special ingredients and ogle the pristine cakes in the bakery. It would be heresy to actually eat any of these.

I haven’t seen or thought about Blythe dolls in maybe decades, so seeing them as hair dye models was… a trip.

Had to stop and say hi to the perfect storefront window at Bliss.

And then took a spin down Bike Blvd, meditating on whether bikes and cars can ever truly share the planet.

On Friday, I walked across Central Park after work.

I was intending to get to the Neue Gallerie in time for Free First Fridays… unfortunately, I saw the line wind around the block before even left the park. I intuited that the museum was going to be unpleasantly packed and there would be no art high to be had here today.

So, I changed course and went to The Met, as one does.

Though I didn’t document much, I stayed mainly in the Egyptian wing, communing with the many, many rows of tiny aquamarine-colored beads in the shape of eyes, rabbits, cats, and hieroglyphic friezes. I was interested in giving my full attention to the smallest objects this time around. I stared deeply at pottery shards with vibrant psychedelic glazes that looked as though they were fired in the kiln yesterday. Dainty rings and necklaces that still sparkled. Golden sandals that were lightly indented with wear.

I’ve never spent any time in the Egyptian wing, which is so close to the entrance and always overrun with loud children. But on this particular Friday evening, it was refreshingly quiet. Afterward, I ventured back out to the main atrium to cross over to the Ancient Greek wing and heard a string quartet playing from some unseen corner, mixing beautifully with the sound of general bustling.

Not a “true” spinster outing, but close enough.

It was wonderful to hear Sheku Kanneh-Mason perform (and a very fun surprise to run into him after the show!) but it was a thrill of a lifetime to be sitting directly above FOUR HARPS during Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique.