…get any weirder, it does.
Sunday’s final CBA class day went fabulously well. We ran out of the cotton base pulp at about 2pm, leaving a perfect amount of time for a thorough cleanup and a follow-up chat session with folks who were interested in paper sculpture. Something that I meant to tell you about in the last post: in keeping with the class’s ‘Portable’ title, I beat two pounds of cotton the night before leaving Chicago, drained it, double-bagged it, packed it in my suitcase, and paid to check my bag. I knew it would re-hydrate easily; the experimental aspect was whether or not it would get there. It made it through TSA just fine. Even though I forgot my usual “Dear TSA” note on a printout of the class listing, gallon freezer bags of drained cotton (thankfully) must not look very much like several pounds of plastic explosives or drugs.
The Drying, Sunday night. All this packs into the box at the right.
After a nice post-class evening eating even more lovely Indian food and honoring my personal tradition of intently browsing the Strand, my free Monday in New York was a total washout: subway derailment with delays and re-routes kept me from Wall street, shows and places I’d meant to see were closed, and I missed connections with several folks due in part to weird wireless. To top it off, while trying to shoot a photo, I tripped, smacked my head into a light pole and then hit the ground, resulting in a skinned knee and a huge goose-egg on my forehead that is now flat again but is just beginning to turn a lovely chartreuse. And I didn’t get the photo. My shuttle was an hour late, but got me to LaGuardia in plenty of time for my flight, which was then delayed and delayed again; I got home about midnight.
Tuesday and Wednesday, unpacking and massive paperwork and skewed-by-crazy-traveling-wireless e-mail catch-up; Thursday, a 140-mile-roundtrip (S)Edition retrieval run. Thursday evening, I began to have some strange chest pains on the left side. Paul took me to our provider hospital, juuuust to check. Tests came out fine, but they kept me for observation. I spent a bizarre 24 hours hooked up to all sorts of equipment, including a pair of rather lovely air-pump-sleeve things that massaged my legs. I wish I owned some. They sort-of made up for being woken all through the night for further tests; the care was quite thorough. Finally, after a treadmill stress test that I actually enjoyed, yesterday evening I was allowed to eat, then go. Verdict: unknown cause, but suspected deep muscle spasms, possibly a delayed reaction to lifting heavy tables during class prep or the fall, or both. I am fine, released with no limitation on physical activity, except for the admonishment that I cannot expect to do what I did twenty years ago. I’m inclined to agree, though I am heading into another insanely busy week, made even more intense by the hospital delay. Time to get better at delegating and high time to learn not to overbook, yes? I’m getting quite tired of writing about stuff like this, let alone dealing with it in the first place.
Here’s a fine review of The Book: A Contemporary View that’s closing next week in the Baltimore area, at Towson University, and another version with bigger photos and an extra view of (S)Edition. I really like the look of the show in this big space, and wish I could have seen it. And, here are CBA’s shots of the Portable Papermaking class.
If I don’t get round to blogging for another week: Happy Samhainn / Halloween! These are fancy-schmancy Union Square farmer’s market street pumpkins. In place of the pulp on my return trip, I brought home some NY state Macoun apples bought here. Delicious, and we can’t get ’em…