Yin Yang Universe

Ying Yang Universe

dddde

Rolfing New Jersey
Rolfer New Jersey
Structural Integration New Jersey
Rolfing Montclair, New Jersey
Rolfer Montclair, New Jersey
Structural Integration Montclair, New Jersey

Hey, China!

I saw the opening and closing shows at your Summer 2008 Olympics.
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Is that ALL ya got?

Poem for Judgement Day


We did it all.

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WE DID IT ALL!
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We made it all happen.
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And that…

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and that…
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and that and.

xxx

THE PARADIGM IS FALLING!!!

By David D. Wronski

As you’ve probably heard, we’re having a paradigm shift. As if that wasn’t enough what with talk of a polar shift and the news reading like the world’s going you-know-where in a hand basket. In any event, I am hopeful. Exceedingly so, in fact.

I have a new paradigm for you. [That reminds me of Moses. He goes up the mountain and the Lord appears and says, “Moses, I have commandments for you.” Moses asks, “And how much are they?” “They’re free.” So Moses says, “So, give me ten”.]

Really, I have a paradigm for you. How much, you ask? How’s about 20 cents? (Get It? Paradigm, par-a-digm…pair of dimes.) Any New Ager worth his/her salt has probably dropped the term at least twice before lunchtime on any given day. Usually connected to the word “shift”. Even at Starbucks you'll likely hear statements like, “He’s so old paradigm”. “Don’t let the paradigm shift leave you without two dimes to rub together.” “Buddy, can you spare a para….?”

So now that I’m through with the chuckles, just what is this new paradigm, anyway? As far as paradigms go, however, it seems we get only one at a time. And it’s not a commandment, like with Moses; it’s the lens through which you see the world. According to one definition a paradigm is a model or pattern that an individual or group uses in trying to understand something . . . a general agreement of belief of how the world works. It is just a concept. But, the acid test is whether it is a useful concept. When one wears out, we get another. The universe is kind, however, you don't ever find yourself without a paradigm. One goes because another, better, is discovered.

Near as I can tell the current, modern paradigm all of us were born into historically can be summed up as “US AND THEM”, the splitting of the understanding of the world into observer and the observed. Or, as we read in the news,” them evil-doers over there.” This split way of thinking, observer and observed, comes from Rene Descartes, 1596-1650. He’s the guy who also came up with “I think, therefore I am.” (And you know how whack that is.) So with all the thinking in the modern paradigm world, we’ve come up with a lot of stuff. Were it not for the paradigm shift, we’d continue our one sided scientific/technological spree and load up the world with so much stuff that it might just stop spinning under all the weight. Paradigm shift or shiftless, you choose. Not to mention all the fuss made everywhere about "those people!" next door.

The trouble with the old way of seeing the world is that recently we’ve come to realize that you cain’t ever take the observer out of what is being observed. As my young daughters used to say, “When you’re pointing a finger at someone else, three more are pointing back at you.” Or, as they used to say in their most sassy way, “Whatever you say goes back to you!” So if you want to do something about what you see around you, take a look at what’s in you that is like what’s around you. Now don’t confuse the messenger with the message, but Mr. Michael Jackson said it best, “Take a look at the man in the mirror.”

Chilton Pierce, an expert on child development said, [I paraphrase] “If you want your children to be the way you want them to be, you be the way you want them to be.” And wasn’t it the Dalai Lama who said that there is no world peace without inner peace. And since I’m on a quoting roll, the words scrawled on the bathroom wall in my army barracks so long ago: “Fighting for peace, is like f…ing for virginity.”

If you see that the so-called modern paradigm isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, or that there’s got to be a better way, then you may be ready for the paradigm shift. So the new thinking would be stated as this: “WE”. What I’m talking about here is “WE” as in “all God’s chillen”. And there’s more. It’s all of us as an integral part of the community, the ecology, the world, the universe; not separate from it or each other. This ain’t some pixie dust, sentimentalism. Who said, “Nobody ever had a problem out of an experience of unity”? Read the Tao of Physics and other books by Fritjof Capra for a full discussion of this immensely interesting topic.

And, you may wonder, how does this relate to my favorite topic, my life career interest, Dr. Ida P. Rolf Structural Integration? My work has to do with integrating (not separating) the individual human being’s energy field into the energy field of the earth. For a glimpse at the upper reaches of what is possible here, imagine a line anchored to the center of the earth and extending out to cosmic infinity. Now imagine living centered yourself on that line. Deep ecology; can you dig it? Or, for the Zen brethren: 10 happy toes in front of two dancing feet.

Contemplate: If land animals evolved to immerge from the medium of the sea, imagine what might be next for humans who “swim” in the gravitational field of the earth?

Can you feel the paradigm shifting? Steady Freddie!

There's a train a-comin', get on board...

Dear Mr. Garrison Keillor,

You’re funny.

Perhaps you remember when we last spoke? You were living in New York City at the time and, one balmy summer evening — it was on Broadway on the Upper West Side of Manhattan — as you were coming out of a Korean grocery, I introduced myself and proffered my business card, suggesting you look into Structural Integration. It has something to do with getting one’s body in balance with gravity.

I realize that it was perhaps forward of me to importune my agenda on you; but, how is that different than you going on the radio with your own two cents? One tunes in or doesn’t. And, for a while with me, you did.

As you I’m sure remember I suggested that you look into the benefit of getting your body in balance for yourself. The method I practice is called Structural Integration. You may have first heard of it as Rolfing®. (Dr. Ida Rolf developed the work and subsequently it was nicknamed “Rolfing.” That term is now a registered service mark of the Rolf Institute of Structural Integration.) You said that you knew some folks in California who had been Rolfed and that because they were so laid back you were “afraid that [if I did that too] I might not be funny” [any more]. 

As if!

What you said (or were you just trying to be funny?) stuck with me. I’ll bet if you checked in with those mellow fellows on the West Coast you’d most likely find the reason for their altered state to be certain recreational substances once de rigeur out in those parts.

I think there was more to your comment, however. In short, why change a good thing? Your shtick is working for you. Don’t mess with success. And I would certainly agree with that. For the record let me say that I am a long time fan of your radio show and would be the first to sing your praises for being one funny guy. Ha! Ha! Ho! Ho!

Sort of reminds me of those folks in Pisa and that tower they got. Don’t you know that if some wise guy came up to them and suggested that they straighten their little tourist attraction he’d be run out of town. If that thing got right it would become a footnote in history … ”Pisa, where a tower used to be crooked, now it’s straight.” End of story. Next? Leaning as it does makes for a better show, not to mention the multo lira.

So maybe that’s a little like you. Please know that I am not singling you out for ridicule. When you look for it you’ll see that most of us are out of balance in the physical makeup of our bodies. It’s so common, in fact, that it goes unnoticed. We take it to be who we are and may bristle at the suggestion that it should or could be otherwise. We certainly wouldn’t put up with it in our houses or automobiles. But we do, indeed, as far as our bodies are concerned. I personally think that we take how we are as given and overlook that a lot of what we take pride in as uniquely special about ourselves is nothing more than a set of patterns we’ve learned over time. Not all bad to be sure. But look around. Do you think that old guy with his walker started off like that? Do you think that he had a choice in the matter? He’s so accustomed to it the suggestion that he even now has some choice in the matter would seem preposterous to him.

So you think that if you were to get your body structure stacked up so that it would be unstressed, balanced, and effortlessly upright by being in line with the force of gravity you wouldn’t be funny? Maybe you’d be funnier! Or don’t you think that’s possible? Fact is, being in balance one discovers more freedom, more options. You are more spontaneous, less predictable. It is uncharted territory, however. Trust.

So, sir, the forgoing notwithstanding, I think you’re doing fine just the way you are. If, however, you decide to change the racket, maybe I’ve been able to sow a seed as to a direction … VERTICAL.

Next time you’re out my way, let’s grab a Pizza.

Best wishes,

David D. Wronski

Andy Rooney, Did You Ever Notice…
“Did you ever notice how buildings are? The sides go straight up, at right angles to the ground. The floors are flat. Plumb and square is the trade term.

“So what about that Frank Gehry, you ask? A lot of his designs (and a lot of those by some of those stunt architects these days) like to make things look like a tumbling teetering stack of blocks or some other jumbling jig-saw. From the outside, anyway. I’ll bet you my last eyebrow hair that somewhere under all those eye popping surfaces and odd shapes there’s a structural foundation that still follows the ‘ol plumb and square rule.

“Ok, but what about the Leaning Tower of Pisa? It was originally put up straight and only over time has it slipped to its present “must stop there to get a picture when in Italy” status. But isn’t why it is such a curiosity mainly about that it is slipped off from the vertical to such a precarious degree?

“And, ok, there’s the Guggenheim, too. The floor just keeps going up and up at a slow angle — it’s not flat! And the whole thing is round, not square. (Is that the only thing that Mr. Wright designed that wasn’t all horizontals and verticals? Oh, yes, the S. C. Johnson building…sort of.) I’ll leave the climb for you young folks to enjoy. And l’ll get there on the elevator. Straight up I go! Meet me at the top.

“I don’t have the time or inclination to keep trying to make this point about architecture. You either see my point or you don’t. And I certainly don’t want to cover all the apparent exceptions to the rule. In fact there aren’t any that I can think of. If’n you want it to stay together and stand around for a while, you got to have some plumb and square in there somewhere at the very heart of it.

“If you don’t follow my drift, that’s ok. Just don’t be making any plans to go building your own house any time soon.

“Did you ever notice that when a chicken lays an egg, it drops straight down?”

Follow Up and Viewer Mail…

“A viewer writes…’ Dear Mr. Rooney, Did you ever notice that, just like any other physical structure on this beloved Earth, the human body also has to obey the same laws that apply to those buildings you talked about last week? The pull of Gravity dictates that the human body has to obey the same kind of plumb and square in its makeup just like that office building you sit in and make up all those curmudgeonly rants every week. And, did you ever notice that almost nobody is very much built along the plumb and square that one sees in the anatomy textbooks or that the laws of Gravity would suggest is a normal arrangement. How come? If you were a building what would you be? The Empire State Building or a crumbling old barn? I’ll let you answer that one in private.’

“Well, my friend, you make a point, don’t you? When I look around I do notice that most everyone is out of balance in the simple architectural definition of sound structure. We wouldn’t have that in our homes, so why do we have it in our bodies? I’m not a scientist so I’m not going to get into the whys and wherefor’s. Could it be that being out of balance is so common that it goes unnoticed? Could it be that Gravity is so constant that it too goes under the radar too?

“I’ll bet you that if you asked a fish how the water was, he’d probably say, ‘what water?’ So if I asked someone, ‘how’s your relationship to Gravity?’ I suppose they would think I was all wet.

“Something’s fishy here.

“If all life sprang from the sea, and if Gravity is to humans what water is to fish, where will mankind find itself when it makes its next great evolutionary leap?”

Next week … Puzzle for future archaeologists … who put all that gum under the tables?

Facts about Water






One glass of water shuts down midnight hunger pangs for almost 100% of the dieters studied in a University study.

Lack of water is the #1 trigger of daytime fatigue.

Preliminary research indicates that 8-10 glasses of water a day could significantly ease back and joint pain for up to 80% of sufferers.

A mere 2% drop in body water can trigger fuzzy short-term memory, trouble with basic math, and difficulty focusing on the computer screen.

Drinking 5 glasses of water daily decreases the risk of colon cancer by 45%, plus it can slash the risk of breast cancer by 79%, and one is 50% less likely to develop bladder cancer.

Are you drinking the amount of water you should every day?

xxx





XXX

boyz2MEN

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boyz2MEN

What’s This

About

Gravity

Balance

and

Your Body?

There is an ineluctable relationship between 1) the quality of your life, 2) the force of gravity, and 3) the balance of your body. The head to toe balance of your body determines whether gravity is friend or foe. How well you relate to this force has consequences for the level of your health, well being, performance, and expression.

The human body, just like every other structure on this earth, is subject to the effects of gravity. It is the single most potent force the human body has to deal with. The energy field of the earth exerts a downward pull on all physical bodies. No one is exempt. The operation of gravity is a prime ecological fact. It is always there. Yet, because it is so constant, it operates under our awareness. We take it for granted.

When the body is in its correct natural balance its major segments stack up vertically and horizontally. We know from Anatomy that the structural design of the body calls for it to be centered on what is called the “central vertical axis.” For most individuals, however, this center line is not fully present. In the average person it is only virtual. All but the rare few are out of balance in respect to the practical demands necessitated by the pull of gravity. True balance around the center line of the body—which is the same as the line of gravity—exists for most of us as an undiscovered potential. Did you know that some visionaries consider balance around the center line of the body and the resultant harmonious relationship with earth’s energy field to be an important indicator toward the direction of human evolution?

Most of us live with the centers of gravity of the major segments of our bodies slipped away from the central vertical axis. Since our bodies are broader at the top than below, when imbalances exist, gravity tends to bring us down. Then we have to work to keep ourselves together. The human body is not a static, solid structure. It is a segmented and designed to operate in a dynamic balance. Moving around counteracting the downward pull exerted by gravity diverts vital energy and limits our range of functioning. We become habituated to this as part of our usual experience of living. We experience this losing fight with gravity as chronic pains and stress, limited performance, and inadequate expression. We don’t live up to our potential and settle for less than what is in us to be.

Why do so few of us enjoy living at what basic Physics and Anatomy indicate as normal for the architectural design of the body—symmetry and verticality? What is obvious is that we automatically get bigger and stronger as we grow up. Proper structure, however, doesn’t come about spontaneously. That is learned. In this regard we are mostly self-taught. We grow up learning to use our bodies mainly through trial and error. We each enter adulthood with a shape which bears witness to our unique history. We may have come to define ourselves from our familiar physical sense, itself based on a complex pattern of compensations ingrained into our flesh.

How we are is the result of a unique mix of many factors—modeling adults who often aren’t good examples of appropriate structural balance themselves, insufficient training, bad habits, accidents, and traumas. These all get integrated into the very fabric of our bodies. They become so familiar we take the situation for granted. Compounding this is that being out of balance in the makeup of our bodies is so commonplace in those around us that it goes unnoticed and under-diagnosed, as such.

Are we not an integrated unity of body, mind, and spirit? It is easy, nonetheless, to miss the connection between the difficulties we have in living our lives and the lack of “understanding” we put up with in our literal flesh. We take how we are as given. We make do, resigned to “that’s just the way I am.” Nothing can be done. We focus on treating the local chronic symptoms of pain and stress with palliative remedies. We can even be so attached to our familiar patterns, as ineffective and inefficient as they may be, that we bristle at being told that change is desirable, let alone possible.

Doesn’t it ring true for you that things would work better when the head to toe arrangement of your body is balanced so that you live integrated within the field of gravity? Can you imagine how such balance would be advantageous to your health, well being, performance, and expression? That said, isn’t growth not only about recognizing good ideas but putting them into practice so they become actual realities in our lives? We have a clear choice in this matter.

Structural Integration is the name Dr. Ida P. Rolf gave to her definitive approach to train individuals into a balanced relationship with the gravitational field of the earth. David D. Wronski is a Certified Advanced Practitioner of Dr. Ida P. Rolf Traditional Method Structural Integration. He offers expert individualized assistance to evolve the arrangement of your body to a balanced, unstressed, effortlessly upright stance.

xxx

Rolfing New Jersey
Rolfer New Jersey
Structural Integration New Jersey
Rolfing Montclair, New Jersey
Rolfer Montclair, New Jersey
Structural Integration Montclair, New Jersey

Welcome to the _OTEL CHELSEA

XX

Welcome to the 

_OTEL CHELSEA

On its current web site [this article originally written May 2005] the Chelsea Hotel in NYC bills itself as "a rest stop for rare individuals." I came to live there in the Fall 1979, feeling rather "rare" myself.

This story is about the Chelsea in my time there. There's also the remeniscence of my own life experience during that time of crossroads and new beginnings. READ IT HERE.

At the time the Chelsea was just a place for me to get into without all the usual apartment hunting hassles. My marriage had ended, and soon later my career in advertising would evaporate. Let's just say that the handwriting on the wall said that it was time to look into the Perennial questions. Where am I? What am I? Where am I going? Where did I come from? Questions aplenty ... answers to search.

I was (and certainly felt) quite literally down and out at the Chelsea Hotel. Questions aplenty ... answers to search.

David D. Wronski Chelsea Hotel Apartment 4D 1980

PHOTO: Claudio Edinger

The Chelsea Hotel is a sanctuary. Even in this update in the year 2022, with all it's fancy renovations, the spirit of the place surely remains intact. In fact, from my own experience living there for a year, it just could be a portal to another dimension, completely removed from the bustling world outside. It's own world. 

When I lived there in 1980, after leaving a marriage and family and a career as a Can't Miss-Big Shot-VP- Mad Ave-Ad Biggie, it was my sanctuary. Days spent aimless by myself,[Like my Nephew Christopher who I'll tell about later]. I watched TV, rolled Tobacco cigarettes, and drank coffees from the nearby deli ... going over and over in my mind just how the F I got there. And in that situation. No family, no career, no friends; loosed from all the roles that I thought defined me. The inner journey lay in front of me. Unambiguously. And, whatever destiny would confront me. Not only did a chapter end, a whole book in fact. Like it says on the plaque on the front of the building commemorating Dylan Thomas ...

I arrived there with my Godson Christopher firmly in tow. He was then an aimless youth and had been living with me before my marriage breakup. When I left connubial bliss, naturally he was sent packing with me. He's a good man, married with children, with his own advertising agency. Let's hope his creative sense has improved, however. 

One day I left him in charge of painting the kitchen alcove in our cozy 4th floor apartment. Left the choice of color to him (artistic sensibilities, and all). Well, when I came home in the evening from work, there it was — the fiercest and brightest orange in the world. Just to walk past, it was like being instantly transported to Amsterdam. Quite a head trip, literally. It certainly was in the punk spirit of the Chelsea; but, maybe only for a young punk like Christopher. For me, no way. I immediately had him repaint to a nice, neutral shade of light green. (That was pre-Martha Stewart mind you. But, she would be happy to know that others out there share [some of] her taste.)

As you probably know the Chelsea has a reputation as the stomping grounds of many of the famous in the arts. When I resided there I was vaguely aware of that fact — I was famous too, but only in my own mind — but looking from the inside out at the time it was just a crummy hotel to me. At least at first impressions. The "H" on the neon sign outside was not working during my year there, hence the title treatment of my story.

The lobby was a high traffic area, a dozen or so steps from the outside glass doors to the front desk. The manager, Mr. Stanley Bard, in special cases, accepted original art in lieu of rent. The lobby hosted an eclectic jumble of a collection. This shows the lobby circa 1972, but much like I recall it looked when I lived there.

One day I when was hanging out watching the parade of people in the lobby I was seated on one of the benches that faced the front doors. In came a certain other resident of the hotel. I never got his name and my interactions with him were, how you say, weird. This is him in a photo from that time.

Photo Credit: Claudio Edinger

The photo was taken by another resident, Claudio Edinger, who took many resident's pictures on his way to creating his 1981 book Chelsea Hotel. He photographed me also; but, alas, fame eluded me. (Claudio, if you still have the negative — that's me wearing the varsity "D" letter jacket — I would love a print.)[Update June 8, 2024: Claudio found the photo and sent it to me today. Now it's in this story, as seen above. Wow! What a blast from the past! Thank you, Claudio, for your great photos and for your scrupulous curation.]

And so ... So here I am sitting in the lobby and this drama unfolds. The strange fellow to whom I just referred (who had the look and aggressive bearing of one of the Blue Meanies from Yellow Submarine. He wore thick black eyeglasses repaired with the requisite white tape.) he stops in the middle of the lobby just in front and to the left of me and begins to purposely insult and taunt the desk manager. After some back and forth from a distance the manager comes racing out from behind his glass partition at the front desk and gets eye to eye with our belligerent friend. They were on the exquisite cusp of something very ugly and potentially very violent. I have no idea what it was about except that they seemed to have some nasty history between them. Just in the nick of time someone else from the front desk gets in the middle and pulls the irate manager back to his station. The other guy slithers away, seemingly pleased at being able to plug the other guy into such a rage. I remember being rather relieved that nothing further occurred. Or did it?

I need at this time to say that in the short nearly a year that I stayed at the Chelsea, I came to regard it as my home. It is a fond part of me and I feel (even if there's no plaque on the front entrance with my name on it) I am a part of it. That "Red Bitch" on 23rd Street, as I sometimes called the Chelsea Hotel, had an unique essence of its own. A soul. It was alive. Certainly haunted. I'm sure that anyone who has spent some time there would agree.

Anyway, continuing with the tale, the next morning following the incident when I came down to the lobby something amazing greeted me. There on the very spot where the two fellows were doing verbal battle with one another was an oval tin waste basket. It was black with a big red rose painted on the side. Someone put it there to collect water(?) dripping down from the ceiling just above. The very spot.

True story.

When in NYC, after doing the #1 must-do attraction (walking across the Brooklyn Bridge from the Brooklyn side) stop in at the Chelsea Hotel (better yet, stay there). Take the elevator to the top floor and walk down its beautiful 12 flights of stairs.

Apparently, I am not the only one who was enchanted with that staircase:

So many times I enjoyed going up and down on those stairs. I'm remembering a time walking down those steps when I rubbed elbows with Stanley coming up. In his eyes as we passed ... pinwheels. I'm pretty certain he was an aficionado of the strong stuff; Williams Burroughs strong. His famous comment to me from one of our chats ... "Drugs of choice." Think about it. How we drug ourselves. One way or another. 

After descending the staircase to the ground floor, immediately turn left into the El Quijote restaurant, sit in a booth, and order Cod Fish in Green Sauce. That's the complete Chelsea experience.
[Update: the El Quijote, alas, since this was originally posting this has closed on March 30, 2018 after nearly 90 years.] [Lastest update: It's back!]

PS... Also remembering my time at the Chelsea there was an old musician by the name of Tex. He played a jazz guitar on the street with his partner who played a slide guitar. Tex wore a beat up old cowboy hat; his partner, a fedora (in a way that suggested Tex wore his 24/7). 

PHOTO David D. Wronski

Story is that Tex for some undisclosed [to me] reason was blackballed from the music industry. Bad karma, dog. Tex and I used to BS in front of the hotel, smoking cigarettes, sharing our world weariness together. Last time I saw him was over drinks at El Quijote when I paid a visit to the old digs some time later. I spotted him there and sidled up at the bar for a Dos Equis. 

I asked him what was up? "Back from the dead," he said. He looked real enough to me; but that may have in fact been his ghost, who knows. And, oh yes, he was wearing the cowboy hat*** that I gave him, only now nicely broken in; a look even better than that old poser, Ralph Lauren, could achieve.

*** The hat was given to me as a parting gift from the advertising business by clients from an Idaho based company. I got the hat (never felt like it was my kind of thing) and a great send-off-from-MadAv luncheon at a swell place called the Brussels. Lobster ravioli with shaved white truffle garnish. Go fuck yourself!

When I lived in my 4th floor apartment one of my neighbors was Stella Waitzkin. She, as I have come to learn, was one of the artists in residence. I visited her apartment and it was full of shelves of books, all made of resin. An environmental (of) art. She was very kind. At the time she was a nice neighbor. Take a look at her work.

Ms. Waitzkin has cited as saying, "Words are lies". It seems as if her resin sealed books were in some sense to ensure that those lies wouldn't get told. 

Them's were the days. The hotel in itself is great. Then, there's those that lived there.  

PPS...[Can't stay away] Even later, I had a most unique visit back to the Red Lady. Happened that I drove some Swamis and musicians to the hotel for an evening meditation intro at the apartment of the SUPER STAR, Viva. It turns out her daughter and mine were schoolmates at Laguardia High School, NYC. That didn't come up. What did...the notorious lady and I had a brief moment alone together in the kitchen, and — hey! — she was checking me out. Still pretty hot, after all that time.

Viva! Chelsea Hotel!

PPSS... And, oh yes...I left the hotel owing some rent (evidently, a select but large club). As collateral I left Stanley Bard a piece of jewelry, a silver pendant (abstract, articulated human face) I bought in SoHo from a designer/owner store on West Broadway; also, a dirty old Iranian tribal rug (from a SoHO antique shop), and my Nikon FTN and lenses in a custom case.

I can't quite place the time of publication, but Smithsonian Magazine did a piece on the Chelsea Hotel in the mid-1980s; in a photograph of Stanley sitting at his desk behind him there's an open cabinet with — Holy Cow! — my camera case. When I finally came back to pay my bill Mr. Bard didn't even remember the debt. But I paid it. You don't want to leave anything behind at the Chelsea.

I retrieved the camera set. No idea where the pendant and the rug had gone to, however. (If anyone has those two items, please give them back. They are paid for, free and clear. You don't want me haunting you, do you?) 

There was film still in the camera and I finished the role that day. First picture, looking south at the Flatiron Building with an outdoor sculpture by Rhonda Roland Shearer in the foreground. I didn't know her well at the the Chelsea Hotel; but, I did know her well at Johnny Jupiter (another one of my stops along the way). More on that in a later post.

Just to say that at one time after seeing Rhonda's exhibit at the Wildenstein Gallery in 1989 my comment on her work of that period was that it looked like "garden ornaments." Offputting, no doubt. She didn't want an unvarnished opinion from me, evidently. But, lo and behold, there is that thing right there on the island at the intersections of 23rd, Broadway, and 5th. Outdoors. Ornamental. And, isn't NYC a garden after all, really?

Maybe I know a thing or so about art after all! Start preparing a plaque for outside the entrance.

PPPSSS...  Also remembering one Neon Leon, a fellow resident at the Chelsea. He is alive and well as you can see:



PPPPSSSS... Once there was something very special that happened one day in connection with being a resident of the Chelsea Hotel. I found out that there was a memorial service for an illustrious resident of the hotel in the Village, just near Washington Square Park. Mr. George Kleinsinger had passed away after spending the last 25 years of his life in residence at the Chelsea. We were contemporaries only; I often saw him passing through with his entourage, self contained as if in some rare creative other world. At the memorial service I noticed this handsome, dignified older man and had an instant recognition.

When I was a young boy there was a television show called Mr. I-Magination. The eponymous host would arrive sitting on a small scale train wearing a striped engineer cap and matching overalls. He would sing sweet songs and talk to a magic (talking) mirror. I was entranced. I only saw the show a few times, then it disappeared. I pined for its loss. So here I am and I walk up to this gentleman, introduce myself, and say... "You're Mr. I-Magination, aren't you?" Indeed, so! Paul Tripp was an associate of Mr. Kleinsinger and was there to pay his respects.

Just such a lovely blast from the given-up past! Thank you, Madame Chelsea.