The Conner Gallery and Heat Box

I went to the opening at Conner Gallery last Friday. As soon as I got up the steps I grabbed a beer and started talking to some friends, and there were a lot of them. So many, that there was no place to walk. I was sweating profusely; my only hope of relief was the beer in my hand. I actually started to cool down and see the art around me. That is until the bus driver of a gallery owner showed up. "Move back, move back," she herded us back into the rectangular room. She smashed us into the non-space until we were like sweaty Jell-O in a gallery mold. Eventually we grabbed the rest of the beer and drank it on the sidewalk out front. (However, the art in that oven was truly awesome.)

Center for Student Activism

I met with some friends yesterday to discuss, among other things, a terrible rumor about the Photojournalism Program at the Corcoran College. The rumor is that Stephen Crowley, Pulitzer Prize-winning New York Times photographer (the reason that many made the decision to enroll at the Corcoran) may be leaving before we get a chance to be his students. I and several other students questioned the Chair of Photography (and contributor to the NYT), Andy Grundberg, nearly a month ago. He has yet to get back to anyone. Just when I was starting to feel ripped off, l now feel hoodwinked and bamboozled. At least we can count on the consistency of the jumbo slice.

Building Climbers

I wondered what the noise was out my window. For months I've been watching the chimney bricks erode on the building next door. Now that they're being repaired it looks like I'll have to find something else to do.

Hot Weather Tourist

For the past few days of excruciatingly uncomfortable weather, the tourists are no where to be seen here in DC. In fact, the entire Washington tourism industry has had the patronage of only one Australian named Len. After five minutes outside I began to smell a hamburger cooking and realized it was myself. The asphalt of 16th St NW was so hot I could smell the La Brea Tar Pits 2,500 miles away. Thirty minutes later I ducked into air-conditioning before being blinded by my own sweat.

Go for the Art ... Stay for the Wine

Last night the Irvine Gallery on Conneticut Ave in DuPont had an amazing show of mixed media. Everything from paper mache, to clay. And from oil to graphite. From white wine to sushi.

T is for Terrorism

Today, after watching CNN and the second attempt at mass terror on London's "Underground," I took a long trip on the Metro, DC's own subway. I had to pick up some things I left in a friend's car about 15 miles out of town. At the 13th and U St Station commuters seemed extra-fidgety waiting for the train. I picked up a paper and started doing the crossword to keep my mind off things. The situation made me think back to a time of similar uneasy feelings. Four years ago when I was riding a C-130 into Kandahar, Afghanistan. As I rode the train to my transfer point I kept imagining explosions, almost laughing to myself over what a crazy world we live in. At L' Enfant Station I looked up at the Metro message board and saw the alert. I stood under the sign doing my cross word when I saw a family looking at a Metro map. "Where are you headed?" "Arlington Cemetery," said the man. I sent his family in the right direction. "Thanks a lot," He said. I only now noticed his English accent. Strange, I thought. I went back to my calming crossword;
DOWN
1 Lose one's temper
"BLOWUP," of course.

Galactic Tourism

A small, inconspicuous travel agency at 17th and U Sts NW is apparently booking flights to space.

Farewell at Fort Reno Park

Although it wasn't Q And Not U's last performance, it was their last free one. The band is breaking up in a couple months according to their website, according to my friend Andrew.

Rain, Rain. Rain, Rain, Rain.

The left side of the street is never a good substitute for the right side, unless you're driving a fire truck.
...

A newspaper is never a good substitute for an umbrella.

Rural Visitors, Urban Hiking

My old friends Jason and August (who has more walking endurance than most other pregnant women) came to visit me over the 4th of July weekend. They are from Western Pennsylvania; where my family is from. Reed works on railroad car components. One of the things he wanted to scratch off his "To Do" list first--ride the subway. He said his company has shipped parts to our very own Metro Rail in the past. And what did we do at the Smithsonian--looked at old railroad stuff. Reed said, "I'm going to go back to work (at the rail facility) on Tuesday and when they ask me what I did in Washington I'll say, 'Looked at rail cars!'" He also noticed that Washington had a lot of Subways. No. Not the Metro. The sandwich shops.

Opening Night

Me and some friends went to the SEVEN Opening at the Warehouse Theater on 7th St NW. The physical structure of the building was as impressive as the art. And after, there was an "open studio" at the Union Printmakers' in Blagden Alley. And after that the Brickskeller. Walking home last night the streets seemed alive with action. Today my head hurts.