The storm has finally broken. The horror which yesterday rocked my mood in Manchester-bringing with it all manner of ill fortune, and an unrelenting rain from a howling, protesting sky- has now passed. Continue reading “Through the looking glass”
Today it’s misty meaning droplets of water are blowing in from the ocean. It’s not really raining, because it doesn’t, but everywhere the streets are wet. Continue reading “High on a hill”
It’s my last night in NYC and I’m exhausted. Pathetic I know. But the idea of taking the A train downtown is the last thing I feel like doing after a full on day walking. But there’s one more thing I want to do. I set off slightly unenthused but I have to get to The Whitney Museum of American Art. I’ve been told that it’s the place to go since its move to the trendy Meat Packing District and I know I’ll only be cross with myself come tomorrow if I don’t make it. Despite its promise however, I’m having mixed feelings following my jaunt to MOMA yesterday which I found to be decidedly underwhelming. This coupled with my tiredness and I’m somewhat grumpy as I trudge to Chelsea early evening. Continue reading “An art buyer, a film director and an unemployed tourist go to the Whitney…”