Bonjour…

Stay tuned for snippets from afar.

Like from France. 

Lots to do.

Dinner with the Sarkozy's, meetings with the EU, collecting volcanic ash…

Will be closely adhering to the Mediterranean Diet and learning how to affect the scarf maneuver without looking like I've had a neck injury.

Avoir for now.

It seems to me that a great deal of "performance art" is much like rubbernecking at a highway mishap.

You aren't sure why you are staring so intently, chastise yourself for the amount of time you are spending staring, yet you can't seem to stop yourself. How come?

I imagine, if I googled, I'd find some research that has explored, examined, dissected, probed and poked the brain to answer that question. 

I do know though, for me, as it relates to performance art, it's my fascination with someone's ability to come up with some left of center idea, explore it down to within an inch of it's life, and then actually do it. It's the doing it part that really fascinates. Most of us mere mortals have these imaginative flights of fancy. You know, what would happen if I did___________fill in your own blank. Then, of course, we fail to execute.

Some can execute. Two current exhibitions are my case in point.

Marina Abramovic The Artist is Present, and Kate Gilmore Walk The Walk.

While I haven't seen the Bryant Park trot-a-thon I have been to MoMa for Abramovic's show. And, like the rubbernecking concept, couldn't take my eyes off of Marina while she sat at a table, not taking her eyes off of the person seated across from her, who was staring back at her. She sits all day. Doesn't get up for anything. Nary a bathroom stop, a drink of water, a hamburger. All day. Like in all day. For the entire time her exhibition is mounted. Week after week.

Did you get that? 

The latest, and without doubt, takes the "you thought this up, really, really" award is called Glassphemy! Something about recycling being boring, this exhibition is making it more exciting. That concept is coupled with a dose of allowable aggressive behavior. Like throwing the soon to be recycled glass against a wall. In the vicinity of others. No casualties have been reported.

I, have to rethink what I consider performance art. Offering my seat, while on the subway to a pregnant woman, I thought wouldn't qualify. Even with my getting up, oh so gracefully and with such flourish.

Then, considering the look of shock and awe from my fellow passengers, once I had executed that maneuver apparently did qualify me as a performance artist. 

For the moment.

Peter, if you remember, doesn't grow up. As in get older. It must be the fairy dust. 

He does return, from time to time,  to the Darling household, in a feeble attempt to reengage the now aging Wendy for a little revisit to Never-never land. Sadly, she must decline. 

Why? 

It seems that she's recently been booked to host the next segment on Saturday Night Live. 

Wendy, clever girl, aware that the viewership, after Betty White's evening as the host, was huge. Armed with this info she demanded compensation way above her usual day rate. And, of course, Lorne agreed. 

After all Lorne, now 65, figures that he, like Peter, has to rethink what he needs to do to motivate anyone to keep coming back to Neverland. 

Tinkerbell has been making infrequent guest appearances. Captain Hook has finally come out and is now encouraging others to follow suit. 

Lorne was last seen imploring those who still believed in SNL to clap their hands. "Tune in next week", he said, "to get there take the second star on the right and head straight on til' morning."

Until then, he sits, patiently waiting for the Lost Boys, or is it the Wild and Crazy Guys, to come and take him out for a spin.

I have never been selected for a focus group, solicited for a survey, probed, poked or queried for a scientific study.

I do receive phone calls asking for contributions to slightly shady causes. I'm pretty sure that doesn't count. And while being lauded for filling out my census form, I know that doesn't count either.

The latest study I wasn't included in was measuring creativity. Really. 

Scientists are spending their energy looking into the neurology of inspiration. Who are these people? Sensors measuring brain activity to define creativity? 

One of the definitions of creativity was "the ability to restructure one's understanding of a situation in a nonobvious way." 

Alrighty then. If that's the definition here's my vote for one of the creative thinkers of all time. 

The individual who shucked the first oyster, added some mignonette sauce, and sucked it down. I am pretty sure, however, he didn't make the cut for the study either.

Inspired by the reviews of IronMan 2,  I've decided I am going to be the next superhero(ine).

Really. 

My legs are probably still good enough. Or so I'm told. Tights, additionally and cleverly, conceal any unsightly bumps, lumps and those insidious creeping, creepy veins. The cape, if draped carefully and dramatically, equally hides a multitude of problems. The latest Spanx should work much better than a pair of undies over the tights look, thus completing the ensemble.

Here's my plan as to how to achieve these super human powers. 

After removing my Paul Newman's Own non butter popped Popcorn from my microwave I will brazenly stand in front of the rotating microwave dish, with my cell phone on and next to my ear. All those radioactive waves, working in consort with the tastefully selected silver jewelry I am sporting, should combine to create the new superhuman me. 

Think about the possibilities.

"Put down that syringe of Botox" I'll shout, swooping into Dr. Makeyoufeelyounger's office, extricating Maude from his vice like grip. Maude, you see, is my soon to be side kick. The "E" I have carefully embroidered onto her consignment store bought, but designer sweater, is for her name, ExpressionlessGirl.  "Why" she implored, "if I am Expressionless Girl would you take me from the loving, supportive, molding me into looking like every other woman in his waiting room, hands of Dr Makeyoufeelyounger?" 

Unable to answer that question satisfactorially, I returned her to his chair. "Inject away" I intoned. 

"When you are finished with her," I tell him, "we are making our way to the Social Security Office to aid and abet in how to make sense of the gibberish that no one can understand when having to fill out the forms they have just been handed. Then, we will continue on to repeat this action at the Medicare offices."

Before returning home to resume our regular identities, I inform Expressionless girl of our last 'save the day' activity. It's a toss up between finding the right bra, to itemizing what Anna Wintour eats during the day and publishing it for all who want to carefully follow it so they, too, can weigh the same thing as an underweight 10 year old.

A day well spent. What challenges await tomorrow? 

Is it dullish, boring, bland? Without any true identity? Just wallpaper?

Generic really does get a bad rap, doesn't it?

Do you find yourself skulking up to the check out counter if your cart is loaded with store branded items? 

What will your neighbors, peering suspiciously into your cart, think? 

Is the check out person making tsk tsk sounds? Does your check out person actually look at you? I haven't had a checkout person acknowledge me in decades, let alone care what I have in my cart. Except when I am shopping someplace in the Midwest. The only visible response that I get in my local supermarket is a sigh of impatience when I can't decide if I want to do debit or credit.

Anyhow, skulk no more. Feel really smug knowing that you are saving what amounts to the gross national product by buying unbranded items.

Your Key Food breadcrumbs, tin foil and frozen vegetables are no doubt 4C Foods Corp, Alcoa and Birds Eye respectively. Of course, buying frozen vegetables puts you back in the tsk tsk catergory as e v e r y o n e knows that you should only be buying organically grown fruits and veggies.

Which, by the way, are sold partially generically as well. Safeway, for example, has O Organics. Not to be confused with O Magazine, The Oprah Show, or the three hundred spin offs she is generating.

If all of this is giving you a headache, forget the Tylenol, Advils, or Motrins and get your drugstores' own brand. The FDA requires that any product with the same active ingredients meet the same efficacy standards. Thus, your unbranded ibuprofen is Advil. 

But you knew that.

You just got this stuff all mixed up with the L'Oreal messaging and spent way more than you should because you thought "I'm worth it."

You are. It's not.

Anderson Cooper did. 

Did you see him interview celebrity Chef Jose Andres on 60 Minutes? Did you notice that I still don't know how to put an accent over a letter?

And did you, like me, wonder how Anderson Cooper scored that particular assignment? 

Have him interview a chef?  Really, he doesn't exude a "feed me, feed me, I love food," kinda persona. Where was Morley Safer?…I could envision him sipping, slurping and swallowing with gusto. I imagine that Morley's comments would have being pithy and provocative. In all fairness, Anderson did manage a couple of mmm's, yummy and a few giggles. Giggles, no doubt a result of the various and assorted liquor laced cocktails he was offered, and apparently, quickly imbibed.

Chef Andres has a unique perspective on food preparation. He was, in describing his philosophy on what and how we should eat, beyond passionate, enthusiastic and compelling. The descriptor, I think, of what he does is called deconstructing and molecular gastronomy.

I am reasonably certain I will never use those two words in a sentence again. 

 But I do intend to learn how to make this. 

It's a Gin and Tonic. My two favorite food groups.

The Brooklyn Ball. 

I actually could have attended this event. 

If I had been on the mailing list. Or, had made a mega donation. Or knew someone who knew someone. Or paid attention to my mail… other than the please remit kind. But, then again, if I had gone, what would I have worn?

Anyway, this serve yourself, pour for yourself, guess what you might be eating and eat it anyway, is clearly setting a pretty high bar for those who cater these fetes. 

After all, how many caterers have you talked to who suggested suspending cheese that melts which then dispenses it's drippings on crackers carefully piled beneath. Really, not your run of the mill cheese whiz on a Ritz.

Performance art eating. I like it. 

One could jump into a pile of peanuts, imbibe by turning the spigots on paintings dispensing a beverage of your choosing, or my very favorite, vats of powdered sugar, accompanied by long yellow gloves so one could root around to dig up buried Viennese walnut cookies. 

Sounds like it was a hoot. If you went, regale me.

Can you imagine the challenge of figuring out how to seduce and beguile tourists/adventurers/those with any disposable income/where do we go next/ to pick your company for their next vacation? 

Wilderness and gourmet cooking?

Why not. 

You might have decided to go camping for the weekend, were kidnapped by a Yeti, managed to escape unscathed, and were hungry. Whip out the Dutch Oven you had conveniently packed in your backpack, caught a salmon, rooted around for some truffles, milked a wild sheep, made some butter and cheese, and since you didn't have enough time to let the unleaved bread rise, understood, first hand, how matzoh was actually made.

Works for me.

Dillydally? 

Isn't that a great word? 

Wonder where it originated. I might look that up. Later, after I put away the dishes. But first I have to write a few emails. Then, after I separate the whites from the darks and I organize what I am taking to the dry cleaners, I'll do it. 

Tomorrow.

Get the point?

But, some psychologists have cut us some slack. "In certain circumstances" says Bryan Gibson, PHd, professor of social psychology at Central Michigan University, "procrastination can, in the right context, be a strength."

Well, okay, that's a relief. 

"It's hard for people to maintain high-level concentration" says Brent Coker, PhD, an on line consumer behavior researcher at the University of Melbourne in Australia. "People", he says, "who check Facebook or their personal e-mail throughout the day are, on average 10 percent more productive." 

Not for me.

High level concentration is hard to maintain, so you check Facebook (or it's evil twin sister, Twitter) and you are more productive? Is it, possibly, the shot of adrenaline that you got by seeing all your very best best friends, all in one place, all clearly not working away at whatever they were supposed to be doing that energized you?? 

I, and people I know, say that avoiding doing something they know they should, must, have to do, involves eating. Not tweeting, checking emails or any human connection of any kind. 

Their idea of procrastination includes standing in front of the open door of the refrigerator, pulling out cabinet drawers where the goodies are kept, rummaging in their pocketbook, or pockets, where they could have sworn they had last seen a slightly linty, but still perfectly good, half eaten Mason Mint. 

These examples of procrastination are to be considered strengths too, don't you think? You demonstrated that you remembered where you put stuff, additionally, you are standing, bending, turning and crouching, all considered excellent exercise maneuvers.

Sadly, the 10% increase you experience might be more along the lines of increased Body Mass Index but, hey, you can't have it all.

And the stuff you seem to have avoided doing… Why, you can take your cue from Scarlett O'Hara and think about it tomorrow. Right after you make breakfast.