It’s named “Slingshot”.  More info at Polaris.com/slingshot

of the view outside my window?

that scene was painted on the side of parked truck.

could not resist.

This reminds me of pictures of the largest single family apartment in Mumbai, India, and there it is as one exits the subway.

is that the best or what!

The nicest remark a director can make to an actor at the end of a shoot.

The West Side Highway -route 9A on a Saturday morning just after 8 a.m.  This is usually a steady stream of cars,  and after 3 p.m. any afternoon, it is bumper to bumper.

No dogs in the water.  But I guess when it is feeling like 100 degrees outside, all bets are off

Wow oh wow, a young theatre goer introduced me to this bar/restaurant and I can’t wait to return.  Gawk at this interior.  How have I not known of this!

A must see Documentary on the works of this 500+-year-old Dutch painter.  You might know his work by the ‘fruit/vegetable face portraits.  This story is about preparation for an exhibit celebrating his works, with a bit of snarky interchange between important museums.  Art, the ultimate grab!

The description below is entirely lifted from a webpage… but it was not clear to whom the credit should be given.]

Hieronymus Bosch, born Jeroen Anthonissen van Akeniwas born Jheronimus (or Jeroen) van Aken (meaning “from Aachen”). He signed a number of his paintings as Bosch (pronounced Bose in Dutch). The name derives from his birthplace, ‘s-Hertogenbosch, which is commonly called “Den Bosch”.

Little is known of Bosch’s life or training. He left behind no letters or diaries, and what has been identified has been taken from brief references to him in the municipal records of ‘s-Hertogenbosch, and in the account books of the local order of the Brotherhood of Our Lady. Nothing is known of his personality or his thoughts on the meaning of his art. Bosch’s date of birth has not been determined with certainty. It is estimated at c. 1450 on the basis of a hand drawn portrait (which may be a self-portrait) made shortly before his death in 1516. The drawing shows the artist at an advanced age, probably in his late sixties.

Bosch was born and lived all his life in and near ‘s-Hertogenbosch, the capital of the Dutch province of Brabant. His grandfather, Jan van Aken (died 1454), was a painter and is first mentioned in the records in 1430. It is known that Jan had five sons, four of whom were also painters. Bosch’s father, Anthonius van Aken (died c. 1478) acted as artistic adviser to the Brotherhood of Our Lady. It is generally assumed that either Bosch’s father or one of his uncles taught the artist to paint, however none of their works survive. Bosch first appears in the municipal record in 1474, when he is named along with two brothers and a sister.

Hertogenbosch was a flourishing city in fifteenth century Brabant, in the south of the present-day Netherlands. In 1463, 4,000 houses in the town were destroyed by a catastrophic fire, which the then (approximately) 13-year-old Bosch may have witnessed. He became a popular painter in his lifetime and often received commissions from abroad. In 1488 he joined the highly respected Brotherhood of Our Lady, an arch-conservative religious group of some 40 influential citizens of ‘s-Hertogenbosch, and 7,000 ‘outer-members’ from around Europe.

Some time between 1479 and 1481, Bosch married Aleyt Goyaerts van den Meerveen, who was a few years older than the artist. The couple moved to the nearby town of Oirschot, where his wife had inherited a house and land, from her wealthy family.

An entry in the accounts of the Brotherhood of Our Lady records Bosch’s death in 1516. A funeral mass served in his memory was held in the church of Saint John on 9th August of that year.

You think you have seen it all, and then something so wild happens as to remind you there is much more to be seen.  Last evening, at a black box theatre off Times Square the performance of 12 Angry Women was late in starting.  10 minutes late and yet the small audience seating area was filled.  All at once, a nicely dressed woman, got up from her chair at the end of the front row and with her purse on her arm, walked over to the small table on set, where there was a pitcher of water and stacks of small cups.  She poured herself a cup of water and began to sip.  The women next to me were still chatting and I was inclined to turn to them and say “Looks like we are starting,” but something about the woman’s movements held me back.  I looked around at others in the audience, in particular at the place where she had been seated.  She re-sat.  Had she, as an audience member, just helped herself to part of the ‘set’?  Had she?  The woman next to her said something to her.  Everyone was now looking at her.  Then the ‘Director’ who was also the ‘let’s-get-the-show-on-the-road-person’ came to her.  “That is part of the set,” he said loud enough for all of us to hear.  “The actors will be drinking that water”.   Her response was in the form of trying to defend her actions, but he wasn’t buying it.  Neither was I.  How ‘country-bumpkin’ can you be?  There is an invisible line on the floor if there is no raised stage, or a stage lip.  She had annihilated  it.  Soon there after, the lights dimmed and the show began.  Next time I thought to look over, she was gone.