Feeling Kinda Heated in a Heatwave — A Solo Adventure to Washington State (And How I Was Almost Stuck Without a Ride at a Safeway in Monroe)

In this post, I recount moments in my solo adventure to Washington State during a historic heatwave — a brief stop in Seattle, and how I managed to get back to my hotel in Skykomish (after missing the last bus). Read on, readers!

Feeling heated in Seattle

The theme of my post is weariness. I hiked, and I walked, and I explored random parts of Seattle. Do you see the face of Greig? He’s bone-weary.

I’m not used to such locomotion. But I feel like the photographs capture the mood of the day — sultry, hot, relentless. A boy on the bus this morning played a Schecter electric guitar. And then told me a rational argument for gun ownership (although privately, I think to myself I’d never owned a firearm).

A Glorious Patch of Wild Flowers

Seattle is beautiful. I shop for groceries in the Safeway in Monroe. I miss my bus to Gold Bar — and thus miss my subsequent connection to Skykomish. It’s 10 p.m., and I’m stuck on a hot evening somewhere near Highway 2. In front of the Safeway, a gentleman has a long conversation with another guy — he looks like a professional hiker. I ask them for a ride to Skykomish. I’m lucky because one of the men lives in Sultan. And I’m given a ride back to my motel in the mountains.

At night the stars beam, and I feel restless. I consider the prospect of living in a rural area like the mountains of Washington State — “Fun to visit. But I prefer New York.” I gather my things in the motel room — today, I board the train again.

Early Evening in the Suburbs

   

Bus Stop Near Everett

Where do you think I’m going next?

Click Here to Read Part V 

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Paint Night: We Did Van Gogh's Sunflowers

I’m no Van Gogh. I have both 👂. But I love a good communal 🎨. With my collegial krewe, we paint and pass the time.

Christmas Day Photography Journal: Romantic Musings On Found Objects (And Some Tibetan-style Momo)

Inspired by the Romantics, I find inspiration in the everyday material world.

A bike covered in pigeon droppings. OK. That’s ewwwww. But. Look. 

A bowl of grits, green onions, and cheesy eggs. 

Me looking at art books. 

A snapshot from my favorite mobile game @taptapfish. 

Homemade Tibetan-style dumplings (known as “Momo”) and a pretty portrait shot of the famous penguin sculpture in Jackson Heights, Queens. It’s my way of finding beauty, elegance, and looking up from the gutter to see the stars (to paraphrase Oscar Wilde).

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Street Photography: 74th Street in Jackson Heights, Queens (Plus Some Creative Writing)

A walk through Jackson Heights reveals crisp night air, Saturn and Jupiter in the sky, masked faces, lit-up trees, and the vibrancy of 74th Street.     

What was supposed to be a walk to increase my daily steps turned into a journey. People pop out. Restaurants offer outside seating. The night is crisp. Saturn and Jupiter are still visible in the sky — on the way to convergence. I wanted to get more faces in my photographs. But the moments passed by too quickly. I saw a masked guy in a cab. He was balefully looking out a window. The Q49 bus runs along 74th Street. Wear your mask. 

     Today in class an adolescent pupil couldn’t answer a question — so she said to me, “This question makes me feel unsafe.” I was taken aback by her statement. It’s the Covid. I imagined her shrieking out of class. By an unsafe question. I’m teaching a course on mythology. And one characteristic of myth is the unknown. So I get it, girl. Stuff gets real. From chaos to calm. From the womb to the tomb. ⁣

Selfie

The Q49 bus in Jackson Heights rolls down 74th Street on a Friday night.

Lit up trees dot 74th Street in the Jackson Heights neighborhood of Queens.

A bagger at a grocery store on 74th Street in the Jackson Heights neighborhood of Queens checks his back-pocket.

A cat peers out from beneath a car.

A shop window on 74th Street in Jackson Heights features South Asian fashion.

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Aesthetic Thursday: First Time Back at the Museum of Modern Art Since Covid

That time I stepped into the Museum of Modern Art since it had closed (like all cultural institutions) its doors because of the coronavirus outbreak.

MoMA normally has massive crowds. Not today.

A series of five parallelograms on view
in a special exhibition on the artist Judd.

"On my way to the Museum of Modern Art," I told my roommate. "Oh?" she said. As if I had just admitted to a felony. "Oh. It's cool. The museum is open now. Since yesterday. But they are only letting in a certain amount of people — and there are mad temperature checks at the front door." I went on and on, basically convincing myself it was OK to look at art during a global pandemic.

MoMA sits on a nice piece of real estate on 53rd Street in Manhattan between Fifth and Sixth Avenues. Over the years, the museum has expanded significantly — and now, in 2020 — going there is like going to a museum version of a theme park. You can do a lot in one space — see a movie, grab a bite to eat but not now, because of restrictions still in place. You can see a mega-ton of artwork. It's incredible. And with the limited tickets doled out daily for admittance, it feels like the museum is all yours to cherish and to keep.

Museum-goers look aglow. In the elevator, the museum's design people have created beautiful markings on the door to denote physical distance. There is cute "modern art" style signage to don a mask and to take a helping of hand sanitizer. The greeters and guest attendants are happy to be back at work — you cannot work from home if you work in guest services. 

The top floor houses a temporary exhibit on the sculpture-cum-concept artist named Judd. I liked his parallelograms — only because I like saying that word. Makes me feel smart.

After lingering with old favorites, like Rousseau's "The Dream" and Picasso's "Les Demoiselles d'Avignon," I sat outside in the sculpture garden. It was a beautiful day. People lingered too—everyone in masks or gaiters. The sun bright, but it did not feel hot. I read on my phone. Watched people — and I noticed that MoMA was devoid of tourists, of Europeans, of people from all over who flock to see its collections. It was mostly — if not at — a bunch of us locals — those cats who live here.

"I'm back from MoMA —" I told my roommate, but she listlessly nodded — she was engrossed in a television show — and had forgotten that I had done such a momentous thing. Going to a museum. Finally. But it was an interior triumph — a return to a routine that I had missed during quarantine. 

Coincidentally, I was tapped to teach a high school art history class to tenth and eleventh graders. So all my museum visits will have been worth it. Here's to me about to make that lesson plan. I will definitely tell the kids about my trip back to the museum.

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Christmas Season Travel Report: A Balmy Winter Day in New Orleans (And It’s My Birthday)

<Why, hello!> she said. Just another balmy Winter day in NOLA.

     Today is a balmy Winter day in New Orleans. Mornings in this city feel hazy and not quite woken up. It’s a city of the nighttime and in the morning everyone’s either leaving a bar to go home or someone’s yawning and stretching, trying to come alive. Here are pictures I took of friends and me coming alive in this crescent 🌙 city. It’s also my birthday today. I’m forty years old. Or, forty years young — as we like to say it.

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I’m traveling with two teacher friends of mine - Michelle and Lauren. They both convinced me it would be a good idea to celebrate Winter break and my birthday in New Orleans. So here we are at the Palace Café on Canal Street. 

I have two old friends from New Orleans, Tony, and André to share the day. That’s me in the middle of the photo. It’s refreshing to see familiar faces in a familiar city. I’m happy. Let me know in the comments if you can read my shirt. 

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Photograph: Ernie Childhood Toy Spotted at the Museum of the Moving Image

I had this Ernie puppet toy growing up — it was manufactured by Topper Toys in 1972 — mine was a handme down from my older brother. I liked Ernie (better than Bert). Watching Sesame Street as a kid, Ernie was the lovable one while Bert was irascible and perennially annoyed. Ernie was definitely the better guy for me. The toy is made from rubber and polyester. What's the main idea? Toys influence a life. I felt a visceral response seeing this same toy in the Museum of the Moving Image @movingimagenyc.

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Aesthetic Thursday: Marta Minujín Reloaded at the New Museum

La Menesunda (on view at the New Museum) has several interactive features.

La Menesunda - So, Marta Minujín created an installation in the 60s in Buenos Aires - it’s been reloaded in New York at the New Museum. Of course, I shamelessly inserted myself into the television screen. The installation has several interactive features — one notable one being the recreation of a nail salon from the period — replete with a performance artist who will do your nails. I felt curious while within the experience — fully jiving with the work's conceit that I was living inside the mind of the artist.

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#newmuseum #modernart #artist #gallery #artreview #performanceart #newmuseum #installation #gelatin #lamenesunda #art #halcyongallery #gelitin #artmuseums #contemporaryart #photography #travel #museum #modern #design via Instagram.

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Cycladic Sculptures Explained: Millennia-Old Faces of Aegean Art

Exploring the enigmatic Cycladic art at the Met Museum, where ancient sculptures blend timelessly with modern aesthetics.

In the Aegean Bronze Age section at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, you can find Cycladic art, famous for its abstract and stylized human figures, predominantly female, dating from around 2800 to 2300 BCE.

I'm at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, looking at the museum's collection of Cycladic art. Located in the Greek wing of the @metmuseum's Cycladic art collection, this ancient sculptural representation of a human face is perhaps one of my favorite art objects (ever!). Dating from the 3rd millennium BCE to the 1st millennium B.C.E., these sculptures represent a culture that developed around 3300 B.C.E. in the Aegean Sea.

An aerial, stylized view of the Aegean Sea, dotted with the Cyclades islands, nestled between Greece, Anatolia, and Crete.

🗣️ Known for their abstract, stylized forms, these ancient works could easily be placed in the Museum of Modern Art @MoMA) and fit right in. We don't know exactly what the objects were used for, but some scholars believe that they may have been used as votive offerings, grave goods, or even status symbols.

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Artful Photograph: Philip-Lorca di Corcia

Photo by Philip-Lorca di Corcia (c. 1995)

What story does this photograph tell?

Philip-Lorca di Corcia is an art photographer. You may be familiar with di Corcia's body of work. In the early Nineties, he did a series of photographs of street hustlers in Los Angeles - charging them to pose for him at the same price the men would normally charge a client for sex. 

In the above photograph, part of a series of images wherein di Corcia would photograph a banal scene (i.e., a gas station, a drug store, a hotel room) with a model who does not quite fit into the scene, the artist plays with light, setting, and storytelling.

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Icarus Falls to his Death; a Cautionary Tale from Greek Mythology

"Icarus" by Henri Matisse

How many stories exist about a father who loses his son? How many tales recount a son who falls away from his father? Throughout literature, how often do we encounter the theme of a flawed father whose ambition causes him to lose sight of what’s closest to him—or a son whose first taste of freedom is so great, he cannot contain it?

Visualizing the Story of Icarus in Art

Image source: Icarus (from the Four Disgracers) by Hendrick Goltzius, 1588.

The myth of Daedalus and Icarus is one such story—a cautionary tale originating from Crete in the Eastern Mediterranean. Thanks to writers like Ovid and Apollodorus, this myth has survived for millennia. In both versions, the essential plot remains: Icarus, the son, is ultimately undone by his own ambition. His tragic fall has been memorialized in art and literature ever since.

At the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, you can view Hendrick Goltzius’s engraving of Icarus from his series, “The Four Disgracers.” Here, Icarus is depicted plummeting, his body monstrous and his expression a blend of rage and regret. His father, Daedalus, is distant in the composition—still flying while Icarus is banished by the sun’s blazing glory. Goltzius captures the tragic moment, forever suspending Icarus between hope and doom.

In Célestin Nanteuil’s depiction, Icarus appears as a fallen angel—wings broken, body delicate, lying lifeless on the rocks beside the sea. Here, the tragedy is more peaceful, yet no less poignant.

Kid Icarus from Nintendo

Before I learned about Greek myth, my brothers and I played Kid Icarus on Nintendo. In the game, a boy-angel named Pit struggles to fly, searching for agency and purpose. The game bears little resemblance to the original myth—except for the wings. Unlike Pit, Icarus of myth is trapped by the limits set by his father, and the story becomes a meditation on family, agency, and the hazards of reckless freedom.

The Origin Story of Daedalus Foreshadows the Fate of Icarus

Film still from Jim Henson's "Storyteller" version of the Icarus myth

According to some sources, Daedalus, Icarus’s father, fled Athens for Crete after causing his nephew’s death. In the Storyteller adaptation by Jim Henson Studios, this moment of envy and loss haunts Daedalus, foreshadowing Icarus’s fate. In Crete, Daedalus builds the Labyrinth for King Minos and is eventually imprisoned with his son. Their dramatic escape—on wings fashioned from wax and feathers—becomes the heart of the myth. Daedalus warns Icarus: fly too low and the sea’s spray will weigh you down; fly too high and the sun will melt your wings. Of course, like most teenagers, Icarus cannot resist. The taste of freedom is too sweet.

What is the Moral of this Greek Myth?
Traditionally, the myth of Icarus is a warning: ignoring wise advice leads to disaster. But as storytellers like Henson suggest, the tragedy is also inherited—Daedalus’s own failings shape Icarus’s fate. It recalls the story of Abraham and Isaac, and the universal question: must the son pay for the sins of the father? This timeless myth invites us to imagine a different ending—one of redemption, not just ruin.

The Story of Icarus Resonates With Me Personally
The struggle for agency—breaking away from the nest—is a universal experience. From the Christian parable of the Prodigal Son to the modern classroom, we are all seeking both freedom and belonging. As a teacher, I’ve returned to this myth many times. My students always ask, “Why didn’t Icarus just use better glue?” A fair question!

Teaching the Myth of Icarus and Daedalus in Middle and High School
The myth of Icarus and Daedalus remains powerful for students today. I’ve created a classroom-ready 3-day lesson plan that you can use with any text version of the story, guiding students through close reading, visual analysis, and creative writing. Artistic retellings—from Goltzius to Nintendo—invite deep discussion and critical thinking.

Classroom Resource: Daedalus & the Labyrinth

Dive deeper into the myth with this interactive, standards-aligned resource!
Perfect for ELA and Humanities teachers, this lesson features readings, visual organizers, critical thinking questions, and creative writing prompts—all inspired by Daedalus and his legendary maze.

Explore more resources for teaching mythology and literature at Stones of Erasmus on TpT!

Summer in Perdido Key: Belly Beach Parade

A beachgoer in Perdido Key, Florida Summer 2017

I'm addicted to this filter I used to take the above photograph. On my mobile phone - via the Facebook app - I upload random photos to "my story." My friends over at Snapchat were made famous with this kind of ephemera-generating technology - so I guess Facebook has jumped on the bandwagon to compete. And I think Instagram has a similar feature.

Photograph: Broken Pedestrian Crosswalk Signal (Near Chelsea Piers)

The author stumbles upon a broken upside-down traffic signal near Chelsea Piers in this post.

Broken pedestrian crosswalk signal near Chelsea Piers @nyc_dot.

Upside-down Traffic Signal Near Chelsea Piers — Image Credit: Greig Roselli

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Icarus, the Sun, and Why June is a Nostalgic Time

Icarus, from the Four Disgracers, Hendrick Goltzius, 1588

The Metropolitan Museum of Art has a drawing by Hendrick Goltzius that depicts the horror of Icarus's recklessness. The drawing reminds me of a story.

"Air" by Walter Hancock - Sculpture along the Schuylkill River Trail

The Backside of "Air"

A photograph of the backside of Walter Hancock's sculpture "Air".

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Art Motif: "The Sitting Pose"

Homme noir nu assis recroquevillé (2007)

I think I fell in love with the nude sitting pose in art when first I saw Hypolite Flandrin's version at the Louvre.

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Image Courtesy: Camille

Brooklyn Notebook: Leif Ericson Commemoration on Fourth Avenue in South Brooklyn

In this post, I take a stroll in South Brooklyn and stumble upon a plaque in a park. Ho, there, Leif Ericson!

According to @forgottenny, the ”Crown Prince Olav, later King, of Norway dedicated this replica of a Viking runestone in Tune, Norway on a 1939 visit. The stone stands on Leif Ericson Square just east of 4th Avenue. (Tune, southeast of Oslo near the Swedish border, southeast of Oslo near the Swedish border, was incorporated into the town of Sarpsborg in 1992)”. @nycparks.

Replica of a Viking Runestone, Brooklyn, New York — Photo Credit: Greig Roselli

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All Ready Made (Building #7), 2012-2013

View from the New Museum, The Bowery, New York City, 2013

Carrot Black
b. 2011 New York, NY

All ready-made (Building #7), 2012-2013
Brick, mortar, steel, concrete, sheetrock, living people, found objects

Art is meta. Looking out the window at the New Museum on Bowery the other day, the back wall of a building is in view affixed with a ginormous title card, the same style and font found in museums. I like how the title card makes me think of the wall it is affixed to as art - as if the card itself authorizes the wall as an art object, perhaps a swirling Rothko or a new experiment in Abstract Expressionism. Or maybe it's just a wall. Hmmmm. *scratching my chin*

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Aesthetic Thursday: Surrealist Drawing

Toyen, Tir VI / The Shooting Gallery, 1939-1940

Toyen (née Marie Cerminova) is the name of a Czech artist. This drawing is on exhibit at the Morgan Library in New York City as part of a series of surrealist drawings.

This particular piece is notable for its juxtaposition of childlike imagery against a stark pointillist dessert.

The exhibit is open from January 25 through April 21, 2013.

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Aesthetic Thursday: Eva Hesse at the Whitney Museum of Art

Eva Hesse, No Title, 1970

I like to go to the Whitney to experience one artist's work — and that is it. The Whitney does a good job of showcasing one work by one artist in a collection of works dedicated to several artists' work. Here is Eva Hesse's sculptural evocation  — I call it an evocation of a sculpture because I am not sure if it is a sculpture or something else. Rope suspended from the ceiling in what appears to be haphazard, but on closer inspection, the organization of rope is purposeful, designed. Hanging rope. Hanging garden. Hanging. The feeling I get standing, hanging, hanging around, flapping my arms, my body, in space — this is how this piece makes me feel.

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Image: Whitney Museum of Art