Back east, I’d say what a dreary day. But here in Tucson the rainy grayness is so unusual, especially on a Sunday. It felt delicious heading to the living room couch with a cozy blanket and the New York Times.
It’s been an artsy weekend, even if I picked the wrong day and/or time yesterday to head to the “Tucson Shot Rock” photo exhibit on Congress Street or the holiday artisans’ market at the Tucson Museum of Art (oops, next week). I visited a few of the Open Studio weekend artists’ work places, including the studio of Keith Marroquin, whose website bio I liked a lot — spare and powerful, a good prerequisite for a creative person.
Last night I went back downtown to catch the rock photo exhibit by Tucson photographers. Immediately lured to the Woodstock corner, where Jim Morrison appeared in his infamous black leather pants in one almost life-size photo, and Jimi Hendrix in another. Hendrix, eyes closed clutching his guitar, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, appeared to be in some drug-induced stupor. Hendrix attacking the “Star Spangled Banner” is forever seared into my head.
Those Woodstock days popped up today, as I wondered what our newly elected mayor, Jonathan Rothschild, will accomplish in his first 180 days (I’ll interview him in late March). It was heartening to read that he listens to Jimi Hendrix on his car radio.
Is this what we baby boomers do, access old memories as we need them? What do we need them for?
Back to today, I circle plays we may want to see in NYC over Thanksgiving, jot down intriguing new exhibits at the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art and the Museum of Modern Art. I don’t want to miss anything.
Better make some popcorn. A perfect rainy day. What does yours look like?