Street Fashion and its admirers...

I spent an interesting evening at an Art Exhibit Opening on Friday Night- The Sartorialist.

Apparently, this artist/photographer is quite popular, more so among the Savannah College of Art (SCAD) students where he had accumulated quite a following. I only just heard about it briefly on some events site and I thought, it would make a nice change of pace from the usual Friday night out to go to an art exhibit, especially of photographs and not abstract art which I despise. I was slightly looking forward to it more after I looked at some of the photos on his blog.

The enthusiasm didn't die when I got there. The place was packed, with guests spilling out everywhere. It was a fabulous event. There was everything you could ask for in a superbly planned event. The exhibit opened at the Hagedorn Gallery which is in a nice end of the Peachtree Hills area. It has ample parking space and a parking lot that's just calling for a block party. There were more people in there than could actually fit into the gallery so people just spilled out onto the parking lot. I guess the artist had no idea how much of a following he had garnered as well. There were two tables set up for my favorite part - free drinks, white wine and white wine, as the hostess jokingly remarked.

Being that this was an art opening of a noted fashion photographer attended by every art student in Atlanta, people were dressed ready to be photographed. This wasn't your average, let's-look-nice-just-because, it was more like, let's-look-as-quirky-and-as-high-fashion-fabulous-as-possible. Everyone had a little kink to them. It was more of the beatnik crowd: pierced, multi-colored hair, big hair, visible tattoos and high fashion thrifty clothes. I was thoroughly amused by it all. I was normal. So normal because I came straight from work.

There was the longest ass line ever to get photographed with the artist, and when I walked past him he was the smallest amazing looking man. His photos, which were no different from the ones posted online, were the same in person as they were online. Great personality but not so much. I can see the fascination, and I appreciate it but I am not fascinated by it. I wouldn't immediately think, "Oh I have to add this to my collection." I kept wondering, "Did he get these people to dress this good or was it a fluke?" Was he just walking by the streets of Paris or New York with his camera in his hand and oops, all of a sudden, there goes some person with a high fashion outfit, an "outfit with attitude" that's just begging to be photographed and good photo op just came about. Did he get them to sign waivers to use their images for commercial purposes? Or did he actually pay them? I wondered how that worked. He'd be hard pressed if he was located in Atlanta, he'd be in a dire situation looking for muses. Just saying.

See the thoughts that go through your head when you ride solo. Just marvelous thoughts.  

All in all, it was a good time.

Why We Travel Solo?

Why we travel...sometimes solo?

I think for me it's a few things.

The sense of adventure that always seems to occur every time I travel, from the airport to arrival at the hotel destination. It's a steady stream of chance events where you pray that the travel gods will shine upon you and grant you not only a safe trip but an adventurous one.

Then there's the discovery of a new place and a new type of life. The people however they may be, you tap into their local culture and feel the vibe of the new city. The locals always seem so eager to answer your questions, to show you around, let you discover their wonderful city, the innocence and sincerity with which they answer your questions (except maybe if your in New York, but I've had no complaints there either).

Most importantly, the peace of mind I feel once I arrive and explore the new environs. It always reassures me that I made a good decision, that all the money (a lot more if you're traveling solo and not on a company expense card), time spent planning and sacrifices made were worth it, that the reward of experiencing a new city was worth the headache.

For weeks after I return I nurse this permanent smile on my face and feel like nothing else can compare, nothing comes remotely close to the fun, the adventure, the pleasant strangers, the fantastic food, picturesque scenes, misadventures, empty pockets, nothing at all beats it and to be perfectly honest with you nothing else has.

I travel solo because nothing else lets me relish in these adventures except if I am by myself. Nothing else lets me take in the sights, the stupid scenic pictures, the missed wake up calls, the offtrack outings, the sudden need to stop and have a drink at the closest bar just when my feet start to hurt, the willingness to seem unfettered and open to anything and everything, nothing else allows me to explore my inner child wonderment except if I'm by myself. And I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Doing a lot of reading

I've been doing a lot of reading, or trying to anyway. 

Someone gave me a test and I failed. I just stared at it without a clue how to answer it, without a clue of how to even start to answer it, and this is after I did do some reading. I guess I am not as smart as I thought I was. Or not smart enough to play with the big dogs. I just hate it when my stupidity gets the better of me. Since then, I've been so conscious of my work, my speech, my grammar, and my writing. How do I improve that? I have to be able to play with the big dogs, to know that I can, and to trust that if it came to that I can hold my own. I was just flummoxed by that test. I haven't felt that helpless since my International Tax Law exam and even that I managed to pull together some answers and they appeared to be the right answers, some of them anyway. Hopefully, the answers I gave this time happen to be correct.

Solo Dinners and everything else

I've been away.

Though, it's not intentional. I have been going out, in small groups, or accompanied by friends so I really had nothing to report on the solo front.

I've also been doing a lot of solo dinners. Every Saturday, out of a dearth of what to do to occupy my evening, I think what else can I do? I don't feel like going clubbing, and I would hate to stay home yet again - my DVD player is overheated - the only thought that immediately comes to mind is, "Let's go to dinner in a nice restaurant." After that anything else can happen. I also got a few restaurant coupons in the mail (why wouldn't I when I patronize them so much?) which I aim to use to cut down costs. A girl has to stay cost-savvy in some way. 

These dinners have been okay. There haven't been too many of them that have yielded accurate results for me to advice my other singles that this is the perfect thing to do on a Saturday night. It's a hit or miss thing. Dinners mainly work for me because I am a big Foodie. If the company is not great, at least the food will be and hopefully, make up for my horrid cooking. So I am very careful in choosing the restaurant. I also choose the restaurant based on the type of events that occur there. Do they have live music? Do they have attentive wait staff? Do they have ample seating at the bar? Is it a "hot" spot for singles, i.e., active bar scene? All very important questions that should be tackled. Or mainly, is the food just so melt in your mouth divine that the absence or presence of any of these factors doesn't really matter?

Most nights, if you're lucky you get to sit with another single diner (of the friendly kind) and you chat up a conversation about the food, types of food you enjoy, places you enjoy eating, being seen, etc. This is on a good night. You end up not eating alone but inevitably eating with company which beats sitting in front of the TV  and mumbling to yourself (or is that just me).

This used to be the case before the economy happened and the rest of the population decided to either indulge in take-home dinners or get coupled up as a cost-effective means of dating. Because this has become a rare occurrence, eating alone takes a whole lot of gumption. A whole lot. It's almost near impossible and gives you a very uncomfortable feeling. I find it hard to do sometimes and I am supposed to be the solo savvy one. People stare at you and wonder, "Why is she eating by herself?" The servers carefully avoid you, just offer you more food or drink and walk away. You can virtually hear other diners talking about you. The stage is set and you're the solo performer. Very uncomfortable.

At this point, you wish anyone would come in and chat you up just so it shifts the focus away from you. My advice to counteract this is simply talk to anyone. Anyone, any fly that just brushes past you, talk to them, about anything on this earth. If they stare at your food, ask them a question, "Have you ordered?" "Your drink looks yummy, what is that?" The couple next to you, speak to them, "Oh, wow, the music is so loud." Say Anything At All. Otherwise, you're in for a very long evening.

And after you've survived the dinner, (thank God!) then, you can decide what to do next because face it you just endured a meal alone, anything else can be easily conquered. It will. For me, I usually go dancing, to work off some of the food. Somewhere that lets me walk around, move around and does not put me on center stage. Whatever I decide I know that it cannot be as bad (or as good depending on how dinner went) as dinner alone. Dinner alone just gave me wings that I plan to use.    

The 46th year, I didn't forget

This is the first year in awhile I haven't done my Keanu tribute piece on his birthday. I was just so out of it today and couldn't compose myself long enough to want to put anything down. I also didn't remember as soon as I woke up, which I usually do. I remembered when I got to work and started writing the date down, I thought, oh, gee look what date it is? Then, it occurred to me.

So to Keanu on his 46th year: To all the love, laughter and peace that life can muster and to the quiet moments in between, to the few turbulent times we face, and to the calm to deal with those times. To the One, you will always be my muse and I, the one you may never meet.