I went to the Cindy Sherman opening at MOMA.

At first I felt really big time being invited to the opening and all, but after ripping my eyes away from Chuck Close's wack-a-doodle outfit and the open bar and actually entering the show, I felt really small.

The wallpaper at the show's entrance is mesmerizing, and even though you can't tell by this photo, it's huge. I've realized as of late that the only real reason to live in New York is for the art, and this show is a good example. Looking up pictures of the pictures on the internet simply isn't the same thing as being there and witnessing them. (Take the photo above as an example. It's shit. Use your eye magnifier--or your imagination if you don't have one of those--and times this photo by 10,000 and you'll be closer to the reality of standing before these images.) This isn't often the case with a photo show, but Cindy Sherman figured it out...though sometimes subway ads tap into something too:

A comment on her new post-production methods?

Something to aspire to.

 Another minor achievement is that I made a skirt in collaboration with the taylor/dry cleaner on Dekalb, which I wore it to the opening. I didn't get any compliments on it. Nonetheless, I'm happy with it and should probably give it it's own entry, since you know, it's done. I guess I could orchestrate a self-portrait in the new skirt so that everything could really come full circle. Perhaps it would even give me a sense of accomplishment. For now, I'll just add it to my 'not really going to do list'.