POV: Backyards.
POV ("point of view") is a series that addresses many of the same themes covered in my Equals Record column: growing up, saying yes to adventure, learning to embrace a quarter-life crisis. Each POV entry will include a photograph and a short reflection based on what’s pictured. While my previous column focused largely on ideas, POV will focus on moments - glimpses, glances, tiny stories.
Friday night, I drove with eight friends into the Catskills. We reserved a van. Stocked a rented house with apples and bread and marshmallows and hot dogs. Packed books and cameras and drawing pencils. A croquet bat. A guitar.
None of us had ever been to the town we were staying in. None of us had ever heard of it. That was better, I thought. It was new.
We spent three days building fires, crunching through leaves, eating breakfasts on our sunny back stairs. The boys whittled sticks; we climbed trees. I spent a portion of one morning studying orange and yellow-green leaves through the crocheted folds of a hammock in the woods.
Sunday afternoon, five of us packed a bag and trekked into the forest behind the house. We hiked until we found a leafy clearing shaded by trees, littered with pinecones and mushrooms, and streaked in sunlight. “No one could ever find us here,” I said to Lily.
We felt wholly, perfectly hidden.
Thirty minutes later, a jogger ran by, breathing loudly. We stared.
On our way back, we stumbled on a yellow house that seemed to appear out of nowhere. A woman was standing outside on the phone, pointing at us, the look on her face a mixture of curiosity and panic. I couldn’t blame her. We looked cultish: Erik, leading our procession, strummed a guitar; Yair had a towel draped over his head; Luke wore a cowboy hat. And then there was me, in back, in a neon-pink poncho and giant sunglasses, gingerly stepping over the roots of trees in a pair of men’s hiking boots.
“We’re lost!” I called.
“You really should be careful,” the woman said, loosening a bit as we descended from what we thought was isolated wilderness. “There are people with shotguns around here. You’re walking through their backyards.”
Smiles & Swedish Treehouses.
Happy long weekend, U.S. readers! Tonight, I'm leaving the city to spend three days in the Catskills with a group of friends. We've rented a van, assigned snack and supply duties, and, in general, have no idea what to expect once we reach our destination. (We trust that no matter what, though, it will be beautiful.)
I'll be back on Tuesday with a new POV post; in the meantime, I thought I'd share these snaps of my friend Kisha and me in the Smilebooth at a recent James Victore event in Manhattan. Never a dull moment behind that little white booth.
Three happy things before the weekend, just because:
-A post I wrote for VICE's Creators Project on Swedish treehouses - the giant bird's nest is my favorite.
-Postmodern popsicles.
-Just vacuuming a corgi, no big deal. (This made my week.)
See you Tuesday!
Fingerprinted.
Can you guess what these paintings, created by artist Evan Roth, represent? (Hint: you likely go through these motions on a daily basis.) The answer: they were made by "performing routine tasks on multi-touch hand held computing devices."
The first, in black and red, was created by typing in a username and password; the second by sliding to unlock a home screen. The last two? Angry Birds Level I-1 and Angry Birds All Levels, respectively.
See more, here. Or, to borrow a snippet from the artist's site (please excuse the language): "To find Roth's work online, just google 'bad ass mother fucker.'"
In Between.
When it comes to city living, Danish architects Mateusz Mastalski and Ole Robin Storjohann are thinking outside the box - literally. The two have joined forces on a project they call Live Between Buildings, which reimagines the spaces between city buildings as tiny, highly-efficient homes. Roof windows would provide natural light, and - as seen in the picture below - everything from indoor gardens to rock-climbing walls are feasible additions. As for the spaces' quirky X's and O's? "The possibility for shapes is endless," they say.
Found via Dezeen. Have a wonderful Wednesday!
Unmet.
Every now and then, I come across a piece of art, or a series of photographs, or a poem, or a painting, and I think, this artist/photographer/poet/painter and I could be friends. He/she gets me. As a matter of fact, this happened today when I came across Jen Collins's blog, which features drawings titled "Animals That I Did Not Meet." I love everything about this little collection, especially that chubby dog, who's clearly up to no good.
And, just because, three additional happy things: birthday sandwiches, beast friends, and the 100 things "you honestly don't need to do before you die." (Example: "You must never swim with dolphins. If they ever want to swim with you, I'm sure they'll let you know.")