Missy | March 30, 2008

Manhattan Bridge. There’s plenty of fencing to prevent your jumping.

As I mentioned below, only half-jokingly, I’m starting to realize the effects of aging. Last year my skin started to reveal its true self. This past year, I’ve found it’s more difficult to recover from things–my back feels tighter, I bruise more easily. Next year I expect my beloved metabolism will implode, but I’ve got nine full months before my next birthday happens. In the latest twist, I slept wrong exactly one week ago and my neck is still working itself in and out of pain. The other night my friend Bob called my Frankenstein for my inability to isolate my head when turning to the left. But enough about my physical complaints, let’s talk financials!

This morning as I was waking up, I started to realize–scratch that, I actually mean “stopped denying”–that my mattress has lost its youthfulness. I’m good to it; I rotate it and flip it at regular intervals. But it is now ten years old and feels a little lopsided. And who knows if this back and neck business has anything to do with the mattress. I’ve also been painting over, 3-4 times now to match my changing decorating tastes, the cheap IKEA headboard I’ve had for nearly as long. (That reminds me: I’ve decided to go gray. Not hair–none yet! I mean my bedroom wall. In December I painted it an aqua color that I’ve grown to detest.) I think it’s time for the whole thing to go.

I’ve been looking at a new bed frame and a memory foam mattress at Room & Board, although I’m not necessarily settled on that particular retailer or that type of mattress. When it’s all said and done, this’ll probably set me back more than $2K. R&B does not haul away old mattresses, and in looking for people who do that kind of thing…let’s just say it’s not cheap. Are there no good deals to be had in New York City?

Anyway, I am kind of excited about owning a brand new bed. I do love to sleep!

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Missy | March 20, 2008

Imprecise composition

This weekend my friend Josh invited me to accompany him on an eyeglasses-buying errand, I was told because of my good taste but more likely for my outspoken opinions on matters aesthetic. (One might even go so far as to call me a snob.) Naturally, I was agreeable to the exercise. Two vintage eyewear stores, one meal, one missed Film Forum screening, and several hours later, he was growing frustrated while I was growing bored. I hung out the open window at Moscot with my Holga and took a shot of Orchard Street, while he finally settled on a replacement for his striking and rare–but broken–tortoise-rimmed Ray-Ban Malcom X’s with a pair of tortoise-rimmed Henry K’s. **

The lesson here is that it is hard to let go of the past, especially when the past seems so entangled with one’s sense of identity. But we change and it’s almost always for the better.

On a related note, I am aging. More than a half-life of wear and tear has increasingly aggravated my noisy right knee. (I should add that yoga? Not always the solution to what ails you. It’s what kicked off this whole mess several years ago.) My orthopedist basically said to stop dancing. I basically told him to shove it. (Not exactly. I just nodded gravely and said, “No” on the inside. Then I cried on the subway. Now I’m over it and still dancing.) Since then I started physical therapy, which turns out to be one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself. The good news: all meniscus and ligaments are intact and my problem is one of mild muscular imbalance. And sometimes, you really just need someone to strap themselves to your thigh and work out that hip socket.

** Those would be Henry Kissingers.

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Missy | March 8, 2008

Down Under the Manhattan Bridge.

I’ve been meaning to scan that photo all week–it was my first successful print, removing dust from the negative, centering the print properly on the paper, exposing it correctly and dodging appropriately (a technique to bring out detail in the dark areas). Now if only I could’ve gotten the scan to turn out as nicely as the print.

Today was one of the crappiest weather days in recent memory. I should have used the free time to take my laptop to get fixed–some keys are still sticking now a couple of weeks after my clumsy paws knocked over a bottle of beer, despite following up with an isopropyl alcohol bath. ( By ‘bath’, I mean just that; I poured a bottle of it on my keyboard. On purpose.) Instead, I decided to go to the beach, on this unlikeliest of beach days. There were at least three other photographers there, including one person shooting with a trashbag-covered large format camera.

Then I came home and made some tea and watched multiple episodes of Northern Exposure. Haven’t really moved since.

By the way, Astroland opens next weekend already.

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Missy | March 1, 2008

My very first darkroom print. 8 seconds at f/8 with a #3 filter. Shot on Tri-X 400 with a 28mm lens at f/2.8, developed in Diafine.

I’ve been taking a photography class since January after a few years of attempts at embracing the (mostly digital but, lately, film) hobby.** Until about two weeks ago, I never knew how much fun being in the darkroom could be. When I was in graduate school my boyfriend Aaron was a photography student. While I spent hours working out math problems and writing Gauss code, he would spend sleepless nights in the darkroom, emerging at daylight, not realizing how long he’d been at it. Now I get it. What I don’t get is why I didn’t develop an interest in photography back then; Aaron was doing what I then thought of and even still consider as interesting abstract work, creating medium and larger scale prints of destroyed (scratched up, ripped up) Polaroids.

That said, most of my existing tastes and hobbies didn’t become fully formed until I hit (at least) 30. I always was a late bloomer.

** With all the chemicals, water, and sheets of (expensive) paper, I recognize that this is not a very environmentally-friendly hobby.

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