Art

I wrote a few months ago about my physics professor who met Albert Einstein. He also plays piano, at least once even at Carnegie Hall, though a private event hosted by Steinway not for an audience. You might notice a resemblance to Einstein: He played at a private recital this week. I don't attend enough in-person music performances, all the more for living in New York City. He played last after about ten other performers, all students of a teacher. I often enjoy the contemplative state that live classical music puts me into. This time I loved it. Life has been so hectic. I had to rush to make the recital in time. Then the music made the moment timeless. The rest of the world…

The first drafts of all my past books were long, followed by many rounds of editing, including a lot of cutting. My latest draft is around 80,000 words with maybe 20 percent more to write. At 275 words per page, that's pushing 300 pages. Not bad for a first draft. Except for some good news. My best writing, or progress, tends to come not when I'm writing or at the keyboard, but when I wake up before the alarm or if I go to sleep early and wake up in the middle of the night and allow myself to reflect. I also write most of the most important parts by hand, since that way feels like there's less between me and what I'm writing. I…

I've talked a lot lately about a few movies that have spoiled me for most other movies. That is, I find them so meaningful that other movies might entertain but don't compare in value they bring to my life. After seeing them, if any other movies resemble them, I can't help but try to compare them and the other ones don't measure up. The movies that spoil me for other movies that I've seen lately include Yi Yi, A Brighter Summer Day, and Tokyo Story. Older ones include Fanny and Alexander and The Best Intentions. I have to watch The Grand Illusion again to see if it qualifies. Maybe Manhattan, Hannah and Her Sisters, and Annie Hall. What I love about these movies is that…

I thought of how to improve the subtitle, from The definitive guide to understanding and solving all (yes, all) our environmental problems to The definitive guide to understanding and solving all (yes, all) our environmental symptoms The problem is our behavior, which results from our culture. What we see in the environment is just the physical manifestation of our culture. I've shared the idea with a few friends and they like the new way too. But we can't change it now. It's one of the challenges of authorship. For the rest of your life you can think of ways you could improve it. C'est la vie.

The MTA Arts & Design department released a book Contemporary Art Underground, about art they install. I felt honored that they invited me to the launch the other evening, especially because they gave name tags to everyone and specified "Artist" for those of us who created art for their program. They didn't make the designation big and showy, though during the talk, they asked all the artists to raise their hands. I may have been looking for what I wanted, but I sensed that we who raised our hands felt honored and appreciated. Here's my name tag: Sorry it got ripped before I took the picture. Here's the invitation: I wouldn't call the event huge, but I'd guess a couple hundred people came and top…

Sunday was the first sunny and warm day of the year, reaching nearly 70 degrees (21C). That's unseasonably warm for the beginning of March, but only compared to the past. Compared to future Marches, it's cool. I spent the morning on the roof, charging the battery. I knew I wanted to head to the park, but feared what I knew I'd see: piles of garbage. People don't just go to the park. They don't prepare food for a picnic there. They don't go and wait to eat until mealtime. They stop at a restaurant or convenience store along the way and bring prepackaged or takeout food or doof with disposable utensils, disposable bags, disposable napkins, and other disposable stuff. Still, I braved it and went…