Showing posts with label Bethesda Terrace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bethesda Terrace. Show all posts

Thursday, September 06, 2018

Birds of Bethesda Terrace

Here's a carved panel from Bethesda Terrace in NYC's Central Park.  I wish we had public art like this in Eugene because these panels pictured most likely have allegorical meanings (possibly of Spring), but the vibrancy and verdantcy of the design and the delight in the details is the main impression.  I like over-the-top Art Deco gods and goddesses with their social-industrial declarations, but there's something refreshing about a flock of birds going about their business in spiraling, intertwined branches.
Unfortunately, if these were in Eugene they'd probably be graffitied over in a heartbeat.





This morning's tarot reading was four out of five reversed major trumps. The gist was to ground inner dreams and visions in real word actions (seven of cups), and to use appropriate force at the appropriate time (Temperance reversed is the reading's obstacle).  Probably today is a day to take a moment to understand things beyond their surface (High Priestess reversed).




Lots of strange dreams last night--they took on an "X Files" feel, with continuing episodes of paranormal investigation:  In one, I was flying around and two talking parrots were confused that I could fly and asked me what kind of bird I was.  This led to a discussion of using my flying power for something useful instead of just flying around.  

In another dream, a cartoon Mr. Burns (who was particularly yellow) was simultaneously a live-action person and a cartoon and an opera diva ... who was singing a vaguely Spanish aria (?about loving a bull-fighter). The live-action board of trustees stood in a line on the stge Mr. Burns (? Mr Burnettita?) sang on -- by this time Mr. Burns had sprouted ten arms, and was waving each theatrically as he/she sang (one on the brow, one held out, one reaching out to a lover...).  

There was some sort of shift and the opera performance shifted to a slow, German ground/lament.  I think there was a scene change.  

In a final dream, I was with some Reed College friends at a beach, and we were looking a new craze where one slid down a sand dune on bare feet (sort of like skiing only with no skis and over sand), over a small ramp, and if you hit the air right just over water, your bare feet would hydrofoil along the surf. 

A bunch of us swooshed down the sand, hit the surf, and -- amid jets of water springing up from our feet like a manta's wings -- managed to get spectacularly far along the shoreline.   

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Bethesda Terrace

I'm sure that I've seen Bethesda Terrace before, but I must have been in a hurry to see the MET or to meet Mark or it was rainy.




As soon as Mark pointed it out, I was off faster than you can say "F-stop."




We got there fairly early in the morning, and there weren't too many other tourists about.  People kept telling us that it was a lovely day and that we'd just missed the heat wave (I think the New Yorker's cover that week was The Devil driving a Metro Subway out of Hell).




Areas like Bethesda Terrace make me wish Eugene wasn't covered in Brutalist Architecture, Graffiti Murals, and Hippy Sculptures--or to quote Frederic Edwin Church, Eugene's "ideal of architecture is wrapped up in felicitous recollections of a successful brick school house or meeting house or jail."  At least we have the UO Art Museum, Knight Library and Hope Abbey.







First Day in New York

We took a trip to visit Mark's family in New York. (Tuesday, Aug 25)  Our flight left in the early afternoon, served a complimentary meal that was decent, and arrived a little early.  The oddest thing was that all of the seats had little LCD screens on their backs, so everyone was watching a different movie or news show or flight progress.  I wanted to turn my screen off, but--unlike the other screens in front of Mark and The Child--there was no option on my screen to do so.

At JFK, we took various trains and subways to our New York City friend's apartment.  At Jamaica Station we saw a mother raccoon and two babies crawl along the tracks, scale a short wall, and disappear under a metal cap of a building wall.    As a warning that my sense of direction was even more scrambled than it usually is, every train that we took traveled in the opposite direction that I thought it would.

LGL had to work the morning, but he stayed up to greet us and chat a little bit.  We fell asleep to the sounds of traffic.


The next day (Wednesday, Aug 26), LGL snuck out to go to work before we were up.  

After a quick breakfast, we walked about four blocks from the apartment to Central Park.  Everyone told us the day was wonderful, as it was (a humid) 78F (previous days, there had been a heat wave).  We wound around a bit on some of the paths, but Mark knew that I'd want to see (and photograph) the Bow Bridge, and the Bethesda Terrace Fountain.

What struck me about Central Park was that it was cleaner than a lot of Eugene Parks.  Along the way we saw lots of granite or marble embedded with mica, and a family of turtles (which I startled) staying out of a bright green algae bloom by sunning on a long rock.

The Bow Bridge (http://www.centralparknyc.org/things-to-see-and-do/attractions/bow-bridge.html) looks like something out of a Disney Movie.  At first I thought it might be Fiberglas, but Mark told me it was cast iron.  Given all the quatrefoils and embossed knot work, that's impressive.

We went on to the Bethesda Terrace Fountain (http://www.centralpark.com/guide/attractions/bethesda-terrace.html) , but more impressive were the carvings in the plaza surrounding it.  As Mark expected, I rushed off to try to digitize every square inch.  I kind of lost track of time....

A Eugene-looking man in paint-splattered overalls stood before the archway and released gigantic bubbles from a bubble-solution soaked string contraption.   A guitarist filled the chamber with music from his six-string.  Painting of the seasons lined the place, but they seemed like faded memories of the seventies; I enjoyed the sculptures and textured stone more.

It was time to go so we could meet LGL for lunch.  We walked --uh, South-- toward the end of the park, stopping for about ten minutes to watch a magic show, wherein one of Mark's twenty dollar bills was made to disappear and then reappear from within an uncut lime.  The magician, dressed in short-sleeves, was very good, making things appear and disappear.  I think his best trick was pointing to his "invisible" wrist watch and making several invisible watch jokes at various intervals, and then pointing to his real watch, which had appeared on his wrist without anyone noticing.

Mark was in charge of navigation, so we detoured through a fancy hotel where you can still sit for tea... which I want to do now (hmm, how to incorporate sitting for tea there with a visit to the MET, which is in the middle of the park...).  We were supposed to meet LGL at a lunch placed called Hamburger Heaven--but it was closed for renovations, so we waited for him at Sach's across the street and looked at expensive jewels.

After a lovely meal at an Irish-ish pub, we walked LGL back to work, and then headed for The Strand Bookstore.  The Strand is sort of like Powell's City of Books, only smaller.  I'd say that the selection of Powell's is larger and includes more titles, but The Strand was less industrial.

I went to their occult section, and saw the usual Wicca 101 books -- I almost got a copy of Penszack's "Gay Witchcraft: Empowering the Tribe" -- and some of the pictures of fit nude men (with ritual items strategically placed) helped me to understand why the Eugene Library can't seem to hang onto a copy... but... it didn't speak to me as much as it would have a me twenty years ago.   I wound up purchasing a book of New York stone sculptures, and Helen Wrecker's "The Golem and the Djinn."   (It turns out that Bethesda Terrace Fountain plays a large part in Helen's book.)

Mark took us to the Village.  I must confess the balls of my feet were bothering me.  There was an uptick in cute guys, and the difference between Washington Square and Central Park was the difference between The Eugene Weekly and The New Yorker.


Oddly, it's pollen season here, too.