I went to Manhattan on June 19th to take a class in repairing clothbound books at the Center for Book Arts . I was fortunate enough to secure a room at a Greenwich Village guest house that was safe, clean and relatively convenient as well as being extraordinarily affordable. Although the bathroom was across the hall, I was the only guest in the three rooms that would be using it, so it was entirely unobjectionable. The room was at the back of the house, so between that and the air conditioner's hum, it was as quiet as my home in Atlanta.
I left my house early on the 19th, dropping Charlie off at Marleen's house for boarding. As always, Mr. Wiggles was very happy to see all of his terrier chums and barely noticed my departure. I MARTAed to the airport and queued up to get a boarding pass. Other than the semantically questionable policy of calling the first checked bag "excess baggage" and levying a $15 fee, I find I much prefer AirTran. Needless to say, since I was schlepping my bookbinding kit to NY, I could not do the carryon thing - bookbinders use a multitude of sharp and pointy things.
The problem with charging for checked bags is this - people will do insane things to avoid a $15 charge including dragging on bags that are well above a reasonable size for stowage. And the airlines don't screen hard enough for the size or the number of bags. On both legs, I observed people with a carryon bag and 2 or more other carried items and the rule is supposed to be one carryon plus a purse or briefcase or similar.
However, I did manage to get to the airport early enough to get myself on an earlier flight, thereby buying myself an arrival about an hour and 15 minutes earlier. Once on the ground at LaGuardia, I got my MetroPass, caught the Q33 into Queens and then the F train into the city. I was pleasantly surprised at the relative cleanliness of the subway vis a vis my last extended use of it. It does not smell like a portapotty in the sun, although grub and grime are still a constant. Of course, given how grubby MARTA stations have gotten under a much smaller passenger load, it's no wonder the MTA can't keep up. I KIP-ped in public on the train, with a few people openly watching the yarn and the sock-in-progress. Enjoyed eavesdropping on various conversations. Yeah, I'm still slowly grinding away on the darned near laceweight silk/cashmere/merino socks for a certain uncle.
OK, so my first stop in the city was Orchard Bra & Corset - many years ago, they introduced me to underwires and proper bra fittings and I always try to go back there when i have a chance. It's down on the Lower East Side in a very tiny little store with stacked boxes to the ceiling, Orthodox proprietors with encyclopedic knowledge of their stock and an unerring ability to a.> size the girls and b.> determine which model bra will best suit one's dependents. Not only that, but the very highend bra she fitted me in was on half price. I was thrilled. Then on to Chinatown and Little Italy, where I was first swarmed by the touts for knockoff purses and then came to rest at DiPalo's where I successfully ordered the yeast I wanted. Hurrah.
Then it was off the the guesthouse to check in and get settled. Footsore and dragging the increasingly weighty suitcase, I made it to one of the greenest, leafiest bits of the Village and up the super-steep stairs of the brownstone and to my rooms, which, as mentioned, was spare, quiet and cool. I ripped into my suitcase, took a fast shower and changed into jeans and nipped down the street and around the corner to get some mineral water, which I then started chugging. I intended a short nap before meeting my goddaughter Pamela for dinner, but the phone rang with a call from Atlanta and I ended up with a 45 minute catnap.
Right on time, Pamela came in on the PATH train from New jersey. I met her at the Christopher Street station and we strolled a couple of blocks to Malatesta which had been recommended to me. We had a terrific Italian dinner, sitting out in the soft summer air and catching up. She seems to be coming back from the stress of her Dad's long illness and death. Food and wine and then a long walk around looking for a gelato place, only to discover finally that we had ignored it twice - it was across the street from where we were looking. Evening complete with a gay rights march. Back to the guest house and out like a light. Up early, but not early enough the next morning. Even without Charlie to walk and so forth, getting showered and dressed in a new place and then navigating the subways to Broadway and 27th was a time hog. No breakfast .... Hail Starbucks.
The class was astonishingly good. The instructor, Sophia Kramer, is a conservator at the Metropolitan and her knowledge is encyclopedic and perfectionist. I realized I had gotten some very bad habits at the Atlanta Printmakers Studio class where we had no lying or finishing presses to use. It furthered my desire to not do any other classes there until they bother to get at least minimal equipment. The fact that they are so poorly equipped, but charge almost as much per class as CBA is part of it, plus it was clear that the APS instructor was not getting even half of the tuition. And when you couple that with the physical condition of the APS facility, where the class nearly froze a couple of nights vs the space at CBA which has to be vastly more expensive in terms of rent ... One book press (rusty) and no finish or lying presses and no board cutter. Using a board cutter was such a pleasure after all of the hacking with razor knives trying to get squared corners.
Anyway, after class ended Saturday, I ran one more errand and then marched to the NYU area on the East Side and met Lynette Kanode Frey and her Sarah and Peter for dinner at a Japanese restaurant. Darling children. Lynette is herself, as always. And then back to the guesthouse in a taxi and waving goodbye in the rain.
Up on Sunday before 8 and showered and packed and headed back out. Dragging suitcase behind, I assessed the condition of my feet and chickened out and took a cab. Got to the center swiftly and circled the block to find the Antique Cafe where at 8:30 they opened the doors and I got breakfast. I was dehydrated and starting to feel icky, but chugalugged a whole bottle of San Pelli water and ate a very nice breakfast and then went on to the second day of class. The second day was equally as enlightening as the first, although I realized about 2 p.m. that I was not feeling well at all. Packed up at 4 and changed into travelling clothes and headed back to the airport - trip complete with suitcase handle breaking, but finally arrived at LaGuardia and then started the waiting. Not enough seats in departure area so I stood for an hour. Then sat and waited and waited through a rain delay.
Got in the air finally and made great time to Atlanta, but then I think my luggage caught a later flight. Then an endless wait for a northbound MARTA train, then a wait at Lindbergh to change to a Sandy Springs-bound train. During which I lost my Breeze card, which still had about 8 fares left, dammit. It was nearly 1 a.m. when I got in my car. Nine hours in transit of which only about 2 were spent actually taking off/flying/landing.
Got home, crawled in the house, drank another quart of water, said hello to the cat and collapsed. When morning came, it brought a nice fever, which took me to the doctor and led to prescriptions and an entire week of work lost to strep throat. I had planned the trip to use only 1 1/2 days of vacation - instead, with strep added, it gobbled 8. Grrr. Poor Mr. Wiggles ended up staying at Marleen's house until Thursday. He didn't seem to mind - was glad to see me as always, but I don't think he knew he'd been there 4 extra days.
However, the bookbinding class really was worth the time, effort and expense.
More on bookbinding later because 3 weeks + later, I am just now getting over the nagging cough left behind.
I left my house early on the 19th, dropping Charlie off at Marleen's house for boarding. As always, Mr. Wiggles was very happy to see all of his terrier chums and barely noticed my departure. I MARTAed to the airport and queued up to get a boarding pass. Other than the semantically questionable policy of calling the first checked bag "excess baggage" and levying a $15 fee, I find I much prefer AirTran. Needless to say, since I was schlepping my bookbinding kit to NY, I could not do the carryon thing - bookbinders use a multitude of sharp and pointy things.
The problem with charging for checked bags is this - people will do insane things to avoid a $15 charge including dragging on bags that are well above a reasonable size for stowage. And the airlines don't screen hard enough for the size or the number of bags. On both legs, I observed people with a carryon bag and 2 or more other carried items and the rule is supposed to be one carryon plus a purse or briefcase or similar.
However, I did manage to get to the airport early enough to get myself on an earlier flight, thereby buying myself an arrival about an hour and 15 minutes earlier. Once on the ground at LaGuardia, I got my MetroPass, caught the Q33 into Queens and then the F train into the city. I was pleasantly surprised at the relative cleanliness of the subway vis a vis my last extended use of it. It does not smell like a portapotty in the sun, although grub and grime are still a constant. Of course, given how grubby MARTA stations have gotten under a much smaller passenger load, it's no wonder the MTA can't keep up. I KIP-ped in public on the train, with a few people openly watching the yarn and the sock-in-progress. Enjoyed eavesdropping on various conversations. Yeah, I'm still slowly grinding away on the darned near laceweight silk/cashmere/merino socks for a certain uncle.
OK, so my first stop in the city was Orchard Bra & Corset - many years ago, they introduced me to underwires and proper bra fittings and I always try to go back there when i have a chance. It's down on the Lower East Side in a very tiny little store with stacked boxes to the ceiling, Orthodox proprietors with encyclopedic knowledge of their stock and an unerring ability to a.> size the girls and b.> determine which model bra will best suit one's dependents. Not only that, but the very highend bra she fitted me in was on half price. I was thrilled. Then on to Chinatown and Little Italy, where I was first swarmed by the touts for knockoff purses and then came to rest at DiPalo's where I successfully ordered the yeast I wanted. Hurrah.
Then it was off the the guesthouse to check in and get settled. Footsore and dragging the increasingly weighty suitcase, I made it to one of the greenest, leafiest bits of the Village and up the super-steep stairs of the brownstone and to my rooms, which, as mentioned, was spare, quiet and cool. I ripped into my suitcase, took a fast shower and changed into jeans and nipped down the street and around the corner to get some mineral water, which I then started chugging. I intended a short nap before meeting my goddaughter Pamela for dinner, but the phone rang with a call from Atlanta and I ended up with a 45 minute catnap.
Right on time, Pamela came in on the PATH train from New jersey. I met her at the Christopher Street station and we strolled a couple of blocks to Malatesta which had been recommended to me. We had a terrific Italian dinner, sitting out in the soft summer air and catching up. She seems to be coming back from the stress of her Dad's long illness and death. Food and wine and then a long walk around looking for a gelato place, only to discover finally that we had ignored it twice - it was across the street from where we were looking. Evening complete with a gay rights march. Back to the guest house and out like a light. Up early, but not early enough the next morning. Even without Charlie to walk and so forth, getting showered and dressed in a new place and then navigating the subways to Broadway and 27th was a time hog. No breakfast .... Hail Starbucks.
The class was astonishingly good. The instructor, Sophia Kramer, is a conservator at the Metropolitan and her knowledge is encyclopedic and perfectionist. I realized I had gotten some very bad habits at the Atlanta Printmakers Studio class where we had no lying or finishing presses to use. It furthered my desire to not do any other classes there until they bother to get at least minimal equipment. The fact that they are so poorly equipped, but charge almost as much per class as CBA is part of it, plus it was clear that the APS instructor was not getting even half of the tuition. And when you couple that with the physical condition of the APS facility, where the class nearly froze a couple of nights vs the space at CBA which has to be vastly more expensive in terms of rent ... One book press (rusty) and no finish or lying presses and no board cutter. Using a board cutter was such a pleasure after all of the hacking with razor knives trying to get squared corners.
Anyway, after class ended Saturday, I ran one more errand and then marched to the NYU area on the East Side and met Lynette Kanode Frey and her Sarah and Peter for dinner at a Japanese restaurant. Darling children. Lynette is herself, as always. And then back to the guesthouse in a taxi and waving goodbye in the rain.
Up on Sunday before 8 and showered and packed and headed back out. Dragging suitcase behind, I assessed the condition of my feet and chickened out and took a cab. Got to the center swiftly and circled the block to find the Antique Cafe where at 8:30 they opened the doors and I got breakfast. I was dehydrated and starting to feel icky, but chugalugged a whole bottle of San Pelli water and ate a very nice breakfast and then went on to the second day of class. The second day was equally as enlightening as the first, although I realized about 2 p.m. that I was not feeling well at all. Packed up at 4 and changed into travelling clothes and headed back to the airport - trip complete with suitcase handle breaking, but finally arrived at LaGuardia and then started the waiting. Not enough seats in departure area so I stood for an hour. Then sat and waited and waited through a rain delay.
Got in the air finally and made great time to Atlanta, but then I think my luggage caught a later flight. Then an endless wait for a northbound MARTA train, then a wait at Lindbergh to change to a Sandy Springs-bound train. During which I lost my Breeze card, which still had about 8 fares left, dammit. It was nearly 1 a.m. when I got in my car. Nine hours in transit of which only about 2 were spent actually taking off/flying/landing.
Got home, crawled in the house, drank another quart of water, said hello to the cat and collapsed. When morning came, it brought a nice fever, which took me to the doctor and led to prescriptions and an entire week of work lost to strep throat. I had planned the trip to use only 1 1/2 days of vacation - instead, with strep added, it gobbled 8. Grrr. Poor Mr. Wiggles ended up staying at Marleen's house until Thursday. He didn't seem to mind - was glad to see me as always, but I don't think he knew he'd been there 4 extra days.
However, the bookbinding class really was worth the time, effort and expense.
More on bookbinding later because 3 weeks + later, I am just now getting over the nagging cough left behind.
3 comments:
For goodness sake Valeria, pictures????
Sadly, my little Nikon mini has died. In fact, it chose to die on the trip before I got to the first day of class. I will take some pictures of the book I fixed, but pictures of my trip? Only mental.
I've just flown to the east coast and thankfully, from Canada, there are no charges for baggage even on the US airline I took. The other thing the rules cause, is people trying to use one very heavy suitcase.
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