An unmistakable sense of connection

I went to New York for the opening reception of The Blogger Show, my first trip there in several years. AMTRAK rocks; what a great way to travel. You wouldn't believe how much carry-on luggage they allow! The trip up was amazing, with the fire of autumn colors razing the hills against a crystal blue that you could lose yourself in.

I got off the train at Penn Station at 5PM, in the middle of rush hour. It struck me as eerie, that with all of those people the only thing you hear is the sound of feet hammering the concrete. Hardly a single voice could be heard, not even a murmur to ground the beat of those thundering feet.

I stayed with my good friend Jean McClung at the Larchmont Hotel on W 11h St., which is a really handy place to stay, let me tell you. (And thank you, Jean. I don't know how we could have pulled this show off without you.) It was close to all of the places I wanted to visit and needed to be while I was there (well, this was a business trip) and there were places that I had to be. One of the places that I made a specific point of going to was New York Central Art Supply. Interesting place; it was recommended by couple of people when I mentioned that I was searching for unusual papers.

The Blogger Show reception was packed, as I have already mentioned. It was a pleasure to finally meet some of the people that I have worked with over the last several months in the ether. Stephanie Lee Jackson and Bill Gusky in particular. I will be sharing Digging Pitt Too with Bill for one of the Blogger Shows. And watch this space for further developments with Stephanie.

I took an installation shot --

Okay, so here's where it gets interesting. Stephanie, whose piece is on the upper right, laid out and installed the exhibit. She is someone that I was beginning to feel an affinity for during the run-up to this exhibit, which was confirmed when I met her, JT Kirkland, whose piece is on the upper left, brokered a trade of my work in his Barter project. That's my work under his on the lower left. And on the lower right? That is only the work of my BFF Chris, who I met when I first moved to Pittsburgh nearly ten years ago. How cool is that?

So, you would think it would be over with my getting up on Sunday morning for the trip back to da 'burgh, right? Huh-uh, it just got cooler. I got to Penn Station a little early, so I went to Borders to pick up some reading material. I checked under E to see if one of my favorite authors had published anything new. Lucky me! he had! So, I happily picked up a copy of Zeroville by Steve Erickson to read on the train on the way home.

Wait, it gets better--

Okay, so I smoke. (Shut up, I know it's a bad habit that will most likely kill me, yadayada.) So, I got off the train and in my wild desire to inhale two nicotine packages, I watch as all of the cabs and jitneys were taken. The last jitney driver said he'd be back shortly; his fare was only going to a downtown hotel. (I did try to call for a cab. You know what the operator said? There weren't any cabs available.)

I'm waiting for the jitney driver to come back when I notice all of these flashing lights and I think, great, the driver is probably stuck behind whatever is going on. It didn't look like an accident, no ambulance. At first, I thought it was some dignitary being escorted through da 'burgh. You'll never guess.

It was elephants.

I am not joking. 8:30pm, dark as pitch, and there was a line of eight elephants, followed by zebras and horses, being escorted through the outer edges of downtown. And my camera was packed.