The Lichtenstein Project: Part 1

"In America, the biggest is the best." -- Roy Lichtenstein

I love pop art. I chose the color scheme of my apartment based on a piece of pop art, my friends buy me pop art for my birthday, and I've even tried to create pop art self-portraits.

I have a lot of blank walls at the moment and not enough artwork to fill them all, so I decided to invest in a print -- the hugest print I could find -- of my favorite pop art painting: M-Maybe by Roy Lichtenstein.

The hugest print I could find, however, was a measly 31" x 31". And the cheapest ones I could find were all upwards of $50. Unframed. Minus shipping.

I'm an artist and I never buy anything I can't make myself, so my path forward was clear.

Trouble is, according to my lease, I can't paint my apartment. And even if I wanted to slap some color on my walls and risk the inability to turn them pure-white again, I certainly can't paint an actual mural on them. Flat color is one thing, but you can't make brush strokes vanish with primer and a prayer.

I brainstormed. I tested. I Googled. And then, while writing a shopping list in chalk on my kitchen wall -- which features a retro rocketship design cut out of chalkboard-surface contact paper -- I thought of a solution. Why not cover my walls in clear contact paper and paint over that? Then, if I get tired of my artwork or need to remove it for any reason, I can just peel it off!

Last night, I stopped off at my local junk store and bought 27 feet of clear contact paper, bottles of acrylic paint in black, white, and the three primary colors, and a bunch of sponge brushes. Grand total: $26.74. I papered my entryway wall in plastic, smoothed out all the bumps, and started sketching.

I laid down the large blocks of color first. Then I laid down the Ben-Day dots by hand using an old Burt's Bees chapstick tube as a stamp. (This alone took two hours... no wonder Roy made his Ben-Day dots with a stencil instead of trying to do them freehand!) Then I "inked" the lineart using a narrow sponge and a lot of black paint.

It's only half-finished, but I'm loving the results so far.

Tonight, I need to borrow a ladder from somewhere. Stay tuned...

Science is Delicious

"Better living through chemistry." -- Nietzsche

 

 

The following is the transcript of an actual email exchange between a few members of my team. We understood each other perfectly without resorting to Google, though I can't tell whether that's a credit to our knowledge of chemistry or our knowledge of each other's snack cravings...

 

Coworker 1: Anyone want to go get some iced ?

 

Coworker 2: I was just about to go get  at Gotham, wanna come with?

 

Me: Will you guys please pick me up some ? I can't leave clinic!

 

Intern: Sigh. I haven't taken Orgo yet.

A Night At The Museum

"Color and light. There's only color and light." -- Stephen Sondheim







Went to the Met on Friday night. Did some drawing, wandered around. Finally caught the Alexander McQueen exhibit and it was, in a word, phenomenal. Irritatingly packed with people who know zilch about museum etiquette and how to behave themselves in a gallery, but still phenomenal.

Once Shy, Twice Bitten

"A friend's not a cheap little phony creep or a jerk trying to make a deal. A friend is a person who, most of all, cares about what you feel. And nothing is harder than learning a friend isn't real." -- Jason Robert Brown

Once upon a time, a prince from a faraway land was riding through the forest when he happened across a beautiful young maiden. She was weeping.

"Why are you crying, o fair maiden?" asked the prince. She showed him her hand, which was mangled and covered in blood. "I was feeding a beast and he bit me."

The prince unsheathed his sword. "Where did he run? I'll slay him!" he roared.

The maiden scrambled to her feet and clutched the prince's robes. "No, don't!" she pleaded, tears forming anew. "He's my friend, and he's been hunted and persecuted for so very long."

The prince gazed into her eyes, moved by the maiden's concern for the savage animal. He pried her uninjured hand from his chest and turned it in his own, examining it carefully. "Your skin is covered with scars. Are they all from him?"

"Yes. I keep feeding him and he keeps biting me."

"Why not just stop feeding him, then?"

"He's a beast, and biting is simply what beasts do. He still deserves kindness. I can't expect him to change his nature for me!"

The prince peered off through the trees. "Beasts can be tamed," he said. "He does have the ability to not bite the hand that feeds him, but he just won't show that courtesy to you." The maiden was silent. "Have you told him how much it hurts when he bites you?" asked the prince.

"All the time."

"Does he promise to stop biting you?"

"Always."

"Does he actually stop?"

"For a while. Then he bites me again. It seems like he forgets that I don't like being bitten. Either that or he doesn't realize how badly he keeps hurting me."

The prince ripped a strip of linen from his hem and began to bandage the maiden's hand with it. "In the faraway land where I was born, friends don't bite their friends," he told her. "Friends detest causing each other pain. You call your beast a friend, but remember: beasts aren't capable of compassion. In fact, it sounds to me like he thinks of you more as a meal ticket than a friend."

He bound off the linen in a perfect square knot, kissed it, and returned her hand with a rueful smile. "I'd tell you that your beast should be the one patching you up right now, but he clearly lacks the thumbs necessary for the task."

The maiden blushed. The prince gazed at her for a moment longer, then turned to mount his horse. "You deserve better than this, my dear," he told her as he gathered up his reins. He gave his steed a gentle nudge and it began to canter away.

With the prince's words fresh in her mind, the maiden sat to contemplate their conversation. She rose again, however, when the hoof beats of the prince's horse ceased. "Oh maiden?" the prince called over his shoulder. "A word of advice... forget beasts. Try for a prince next time." He winked and galloped off.

The maiden never bothered with animals again. And she met many wonderful princes who always treated her with the love and respect that a human deserves. And when the beast inevitably returned to her looking for another meal -- because, after all, he only ever sought her company when he was hungry -- she braised him in wine and baked him into a pot roast.

The End.

I've Been Waiting My Whole Life To Hear This.

"Don't you ever bring home a wimpy man! You need someone capable! You need someone stronger than you to take care of you!"

-- My mother for the last 25 years

"Don't you ever bring home a wimpy man! You need someone capable! You need someone stronger than... never mind. I don't think you'll ever find a man who's stronger than you. You're stronger than every man I know."

-- My mother yesterday

The Cumberbatch Effect

“[Benedict Cumberbatch as Sherlock Holmes is] lavishly, wonkily beautiful, 900 feet tall, has a voice like a jaguar hiding in a cello, and would clearly be able to work out in a second what a 15 per cent tip should be..." -- Caitlin Moran, from The Times

"The Cumberbatch Effect" is a phrase my friends and colleagues have heard me use for the better part of a year. I've been promising to blog a definition for most of that time, but life kept getting in the way.

Until today.

The man who inspired the phrase, the incredible British actor Benedict Cumberbatch, is about to get a hell of a lot more famous than he already is. He just snagged a film role portraying one of my all-time favorite literary characters in what's sure to be one of the biggest blockbusters of all time. Thus, I need to put this definition in print so people all over the world have a phrase to describe their emotions when The Hobbit is released and they find themselves oddly attracted to the CGI dragon.

the cum·ber·batch ef·fect

noun: the phenomenon by which an ordinary-looking male is perceived as being significantly more attractive than he actually is due to the deep, sexy timbre of his voice. See also: rickmanssage.

In lieu of an example sentence, I present the following:

I Know This Looks Bad, But...

"It's the same old song, but with a different meaning since you've been gone." -- The Four Tops

It's been raining on and off all day -- and by "raining" I mean "walking outside feels like having buckets of water thrown on you." I was fortunate enough to get stuck outside during one of these deluges, and while I have no problems walking in the rain, my feet were sliding around in my shoes too much to make any semblance of walking possible. Thus, I conceded defeat and ducked into a drugstore to wait it out.

I checked my appearance in one of the cosmetics aisle mirrors; aside from my dripping hair and a black ring of mascara around each eye, I didn't think I looked too terrible. I wandered around, picked up a couple of items, made small talk with a couple about the deliciousness of Pop Chips. When I saw that the skies had cleared, I made my way to the register.

I greeted the cashier. He looked at my runny makeup, then he looked at the two items I was purchasing. He picked up the package of feminine products, scanned it, and placed it into a bag. He picked up the bottle of Drano, scanned it, started to place it in the bag, then hesitated. He held it up and raised an eyebrow. "You're not planning on drinking this, are you?" he asked.

I didn't look that awful. I swear.

Three Genius Moves

"You had the ability to choose what you were going to make me feel, so take responsibility for who you lose when the pain you inflict becomes real. So before I go, you should know that other human beings don't f*ck with each other unless they want to lose each other. And you just lost me." -- from Glory Days

You know those days when your most brilliant ideas tend to fail in a myriad of spectacularly embarrassing ways? Multiply it by one and you've got an unfortunate situation. Multiply it by two and you've got a bad day. Multiply it by three and you've got a pretty awesome story.

Last Thursday, near the end of my workday, I stood on a swivel chair to reach a high shelf. Genius Move #1. Yes, I know that steadying oneself on a platform that can slide AND rotate is an inherently dangerous thing to do, but my colleagues and I navigate our cabinets this way at least once every few hours without a problem.

This time, however, the chair slipped as I hopped down from it. And sent my high heel-clad right foot straight through the sleeve seam of my coworker's coat.

I apologized for my (literal) misstep, assured her that I know how to sew, and promised to come into work the following day (i.e. my day off) to repair it.

Last Friday, i.e. my day off, I decided to go for a run prior to playing tailor at work. I then realized that it would be a better use of my time to kill two birds with one stone, take a jogging route that passes my office, and pop into work to sew my coworker's coat. Genius Move #2.

I dressed in my normal running gear -- sneakers, sweatpants, a cropped sportsbra top, and a ponytail -- skipped the makeup and contact lenses, tucked a needle and thread into my pocket, and set off.

It was a warm, sunny day, so I was red-skinned and drenched by the time I arrived at work. And Lord knows what my hair looked like; my curls don't stay put in an elastic band even on a good day. I couldn't exactly walk through a waiting room full of patients looking the way I did, so I decided to take the elevator up to an office floor and take the back stairs down to where my colleague's coat was stored. Genius Move #3.

The elevator doors opened on my intended floor... and instead of its usual emptiness, the hallway was completely filled with anonymous men in suits. And a spectacular lunch buffet. And a bunch of doctors I barely know. And a PowerPoint presentation.

And, as is always the case when I arrive somewhere in a sportsbra and sneakers looking sweaty and disgusting and intending to remain unseen, the doctor standing closest to me was my clinic's Jake Ryan. Or Zach Siler. Or Finn Hudson. Or [insert the name of your favorite gorgeous popular jock with a heart of gold here]. Perfection in Scrubs was working the room, chatting animatedly with a few of the suits, until he saw me. Then he stopped in mid-sentence. And stared. And not in a good way.

I shot him a look that was part "hey" and part "holy crap." Then I hightailed it the hell out of there and down the back stairs as fast as I possibly could.

At least my coworker's sleeve seam looks fantastic.

How To Run A Business

"I don't need you to think of me as a person! I have women for that!" -- from Coupling

I went for a run earlier today, and on the way back to my apartment, I stopped into my new favorite coffee shop. This place hasn't been open long, but it's a double win in my book -- not only does it make the best espresso on the upper east side, but it employs a baristo who always greets me with "Hello, gorgeous," "Good morning, my love," or something similarly soul-warming.

Resplendent in sweat-drenched Under Armour, I stepped up to the counter to place my order. A barista I've never seen before was manning the register while my usual guy stood near her.

New Barista: Hello. What can I get for you today?
Me: Hi. A double americano with room, please.
New Barista: No problem. That'll be $2.71.
Me: Here you go.
New Barista: Thanks. Your americano is coming up on the right. Have a great day, beautiful.
Usual Baristo: Isn't she beautiful?! I always say that!

This, folks, is how to inspire customer loyalty.

(And please don't judge me for drinking double shots of espresso after working out.)

Memory

"Oh dear, that was a great mistake! My mind wandered from repenting to thinking it wouldn't have been a sin if [the roles were reversed]. And changing them over has made me realize more and more how I have spoilt the memory... how will I face my wretched future?" -- Dodie Smith

I didn't sleep last night and spent most of my day wandering aimlessly around the upper east side. I was lost in thought, or rather, lost in memory.

One memory in particular was at the epicenter of my thoughts. For one amazing evening, I was bold, I was uncharacteristically reckless but in complete command of every nerve ending in my body, and I enjoyed an enormous payoff for my risk. Between then and now, this memory has mentally fused with other memories -- some more melancholy than others, but all of the intense, hopeful, satisfied variety -- and the resulting web has generated a full range of associated emotions. Now, calling on any of those emotions evokes the memories and dwelling on any of the experiences recalls the feelings.

Last night, as I lay awake, a new memory became ensnared in this particular web. Its similarity to the epicenter memory guaranteed similar mental categorization, but the point-of-view shift evoked the less delicious aspects of my other related experiences. And one by one, as the minutes of the night ticked by, each memory in the web mutated. An appreciative gift became pity. Pent-up longing became boredom. The epicenter memory remained relatively pristine until mid-morning, but it inevitably turned on me too.

I walked and thought and remembered, and by the time I circled back to my own neighborhood, time had been rewritten. I have a completely new set of memories now. And unlike the ones they replaced -- those blessed moments that sustained me during some pretty dark times -- these new ones make me feel terrible. I know I won't be able to call on them to help me through a single damn thing.

Appropriately, between the time I left my apartment this morning and the time I returned this afternoon, James De La Vega had been at work in my neighborhood. De La Vega, a prolific artist who chalks words of wisdom on the streets of New York City, wrote the following message on the pavement a few blocks away from my apartment:

Many of De La Vega's messages tend to repeat -- "become your dream" and "you are your best investment" are two common ones -- but I'd never seen this one before. It's a lot less uplifting than his usual stuff too, which makes me wonder whether his muses intended it for my eyes only today.