I totally lucked out this Thanksgiving.
After some crazy shit at work (don't ask) I needed some time down and did not want to go anywhere, but I had three invitations.
There was this one that I promised to go to, but the hostess forgot to send me directions, so I thought "Hey! I told everyone else I was going there already, so I don't have to go ANYwhere!" and bravely stayed home.
On Friday, I slept in, then went to Durham at about two in the afternoon. First to Nasher museum, where they had some post-communist conceptual art on display and a smattering of works by Oldenburg, Rauschenberg, Rothko and Kline (actually, more like, one of each but Oldenburg, whose there were two).
Then I went to Scrap Exchange for some art supplies, found some cool textured paper that I think I can use to play around with white gouache and ink.
After that I had a long long long dinner at Pop's with braised duck breast, 2 glasses of wine and a scotch for after-dinner drink. I was pretty inebriated after that, so I had to walk 25 minutes to the club that had a Red Hot Chili Peppers cover band playing, called the Funky Monks.
I spent about two hours there, maybe three, then walked back to the car. At this point I was sober enough to drive, so I did, arriving home at about one a.m.
The other three days I just walked in the park and ate and read and listened to music--haven't had so much time for myself in ages, feels like.
Finished "A short history of tractors in Ukrainian," which reminded me too much of my crazy Russian-German-Ukrainian family. The book's got a happy ending though, something I dare not hope for.