I can successfully say that I have been to the MoMa, P.S. 1, the Whitney Museum and the Guggenheim but, I can only say that I stepped foot into one of them last week because the others were closed. In lieu of urban exploring by myself for one of three days and just showing up at these empty museums, I had found myself more intrigued by what these museums had to offer in their dumpsters. Trash is beautiful, it's not even trash anymore, it's a means for visual function and investigation, maybe even a skin irritation, a friendship, an anonymous dust in your lungs and/or free food. I haven't approached the free food part head first but I took a chance on some nuts last week from someone's studio at Massart.
Safety Abounds with everything I'm doing for myself. Heck, I even have fake acrylic nails to relieve my stress formed habit of scratching my face, arms and back injuriously. It sounds horrible to say it like that but, a paper cut is an injury; put it that way. It's a baaad habit but I'm kicking the stress and anxiety with style.
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