WH Visit, Part II

Day 2. Everyone was a little fuzzy, trying to get up to meet folks at the Art Museum by 11. I conked out early, and got a good bit of teasing regarding my snoring. Among my friends, it’s a known thing how bad I snore. Now that I’ve had a national sampling of opinions, my snoring problem has increased in its scope.

During the day, it was kinda lame. I still don’t know the city for shit, and folks were making fun of me (rightly so) for not being able to navigate downtown very well. We didn’t really see much else besides the museum, as I was unable to show people around to any "touristy" locations.

But despite how sad the day was, the night was slightly better. Ran around to a few bars, and generally got silly. I was able to last longer than the previous night, so I counted that as a win.


Derrick, sporting the pink "I am derrickito" shirt that Z brought for him.


Z, waking up to the day. 


Cropping a photo can have some nice results.


The gang, waiting for the Flamingo’s, the Shuts, and the Bons family.


Bons and family arrive.


These two were playing patty-cake, and it was the cutest damn thing in the world.


Juan Gris, Table at a Cafe


Harold Sohlberg, Fisherman’s Cottage


Juan Munoz, Hanging Man


Juan Munoz, Hanging Man


Constantin Brancusi, Two Penguins


Paul Klee, Fleeing Ghost


Rene Magritte, On the Threshold of Liberty


Rene Magritte, On the Threshold of Liberty (detail)


Piet Mondrian, Lozenge Composition with Yellow, Black, Blue, Red and Grey
Oskar Schlemmer, Abstract Figure
Theo Van Doesburg, Counter Composition, VIII


Paul Klee, Sunset


Some guy, who seemed contemplative.


Alberto Giacometti, Walking Man
Jean Debuffet, Genuflection of the Bishop


Georgia O’Keeffe, Sky Above Clouds, IV


Weapons exhibit.


I kept trying to get a nice mirror effect with the displays.


Me, trying on some spanish armor through reflections.


Glasswork and reflections.


Woman’s profile.


Marc Chagall, America Windows


Felix Jung, Stairs Detail.


Hiram Powers, Ginerva. The cool thing about taking pictures of other people in a museum… they always think you’re focusing on the art.


Juxtaposition.


Where to sit?


More mirror effects.


Mao Hallway.


Getting distracted away from the art by people.


Boredom.


Outside again, on the steps. Waiting to reconvene for lunch. We were out here for almost 20 minutes before noticing Dustin, Sherie and Jon sitting across the street, having lunch. Bastages!


This couple was right behind everyone, and had my attention the entire time. They were holding hands, and the guy was talking softly. I couldn’t tell if he was talking at her, or into the ground. The way the spoke, it sounded like someone they knew died, or they were breaking up. I wasn’t sure if it was a serious discussion, or if they were praying, or what. They made me incredibly, incredibly sad.


Sometimes, with a camera, you just take stupid pictures of any old thing you see. It just happens.


Z, relaxed.


After joining Dustin, Sherie and Jon across the street, everyone settles down for lunch and some serious fucking camera geeking outedness.


There’s a cool blue/green thing going on in this shot, until you notice verbal and his orange shit just messing everything up. :)


schubee (who arrived right at 11 AM), shooting things with a camera "that winds."


schubee, derrick and Z, standing outside Kingston Mines – waiting for the rest of our party to arrive.


I forget the name of the band. But I can’t forget Kid Dynamite.


Derrick and s
ome chicken mid-air.


The boys: Flamingo Jeff, bons, schubee and shuteye.


Another one of those great taking a picture of you taking a picture of me moments.


Z and verbal, smiling away.


verbal at the bar. At some later point in the night, Dustin and I were here patiently waiting. It seemed like almost 30 minutes before someone recognized our sad, puppydog faces and took pity on us. I shit you not – we both swore that some jackhole was standing between us, got served, and then came back ten minutes later and got served again, all before someone gave us the time of day. This is what I get for starting a tab, and not throwing down good tips earlier.


Took a shot of the condom machine in the bathroom. At least, I think these are condoms. I’m not sure I’d recognize one anymore… :|


checking out the soundboard with bons.


verbal and schubee.


We’ve jumped to some other bar now. Sports-type. Z was going on all weekend about looking for "women with loose moral codes." Here, Dustin and Jon get into a heated foosball match with someone who I can only guess is a "regular" at this bar.


OK. This guy (and his girlfriend). They’re really good at foosball. Good in a way that made me hate them, vehemently. Maybe the alcohol had a lot to do with it, because I was hating everyone else at this bar pretty strongly, from Mr. Foosball commando to the group of kids near us who were singing Weezer’s "Say It Ain’t So" at the top of their fucking lungs.


Z and Derrick ply their wiles on two Chicago girls. Z stepped into a garbage can so Derrick could photograph him. These girls noticed, and stopped to chat. Go figure. :)


Z and Derrick, after the girls walked away. Hey, at least they stepped up to the plate and were swinging away.


Later in the night. Derrick and verbal humping a metal bear. Let’s pretend this never happened and move on.


At another bar, where Derrick is making a cast of his pinkie. He later referred to this as his "wax problem."


Inside a differnet bar, an Iish bar I believe. They had two guys on there who were god-awful. And I was thinking this with several drinks and several bars into the night. They were singing American Pie I believe, and butchering it in more ways than I thought possible.


Back at Hostel Felix, where Derrick is taking a whiz in my street. Moments later, he stepped out of the way as a car drove by, still peeing. A girl was heard to mutter "You so nasty…"


Back inside, winding down.


Derrick, reclining.


Sherie, continuing her work on the never-ending bag of chips.


Outside, for a few more drinks. Derrick gets an awful lot of phone calls, even late at night.


Dustin and Sherie.


Derrick, Sunday AM.


Somehow, his shoe was up in a tree. I swear to Christ, I have no idea what happened here. We spent 5 minutes looking for his shoe in the apartment, and Dustin eventually found it outside. Your guess is as good as mine.


D, exit stage left.

This Post Has 1 Comment

  1. this is great. i don’t know how i get here and who are you (if it is possible that someone like you really exist?!), but you make my day, ie. night (4:31 am here) totally fabulous! thanks. have to go to sleep now. good night. wow!

    miljana Reply


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