Right in my own backyard
Jul. 7th, 2002 07:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beetigerThis weekend I ended up going to several local interesting places that, although they are quite nearby, I'd never visited before. I have a bad habit of waiting until someone from out of town wants to see a local attraction before ever going. I never actually went into the St. Louis arch over the 18 months I lived there, because none of my guests were ever interested. But my inlaws were in town, and we didn't want to keep them in the house all day or outdoors in the heat for very long.
We ended up first at the Katonah Museum of Art , a little place of two rooms and a garden which has no permanent collection, but hosts traveling collections. The curators have good taste. I should keep a eye on what comes through there. The next day, we ended up at the
We ended up first at the Katonah Museum of Art , a little place of two rooms and a garden which has no permanent collection, but hosts traveling collections. The curators have good taste. I should keep a eye on what comes through there. The next day, we ended up at the
[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<a [...] http://www.troutsite.com/books/trout.html>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]
This weekend I ended up going to several local interesting places that, although they are quite nearby, I'd never visited before. I have a bad habit of waiting until someone from out of town wants to see a local attraction before ever going. I never actually went into the St. Louis arch over the 18 months I lived there, because none of my guests were ever interested. But my inlaws were in town, and we didn't want to keep them in the house all day or outdoors in the heat for very long.
We ended up first at the <a href="http://www.katonah-museum.org/museum_information.html">Katonah Museum of Art </a>, a little place of two rooms and a garden which has no permanent collection, but hosts traveling collections. The curators have good taste. I should keep a eye on what comes through there. The next day, we ended up at the <a href="http://www.hammondmuseum.org>Hammond Museum </a>. The outdoor section of this is a classic Japanese strolling garden, as interpreted by a Manahttan socialite who decided to become a bohemian, but still had piles of money to spare. Indoors, there are two small exhibit rooms which show a changing collection of stuff. One of the rooms had an exhibit of exquisite paintings of trout by James Prosek, who at nineteen years old published <a href ="http://www.troutsite.com/books/trout.html> a book of his paintings </a>which quickly sold 80,000 copies. Apparently, he really loves fish, he's really good at depicting fish, and lots of people want to see fish. I kind of wish I'd found my calling that early, though I'd settle for finding it now.
But the best part was this morning, when my sister asked me to join her family at <a href ="www.ryeplayland.org"> Rye Playland </a>. Playland was the first intentionally designed amusement park in the United States, and it still has the original layout, and a lot of the original rides, mostly built in 1928 and 1929. It was declared a National Historic Monument sometime in the eighties, and was been taken over by the Westchester County government, which means it’s technically a public park. It's about a half-hour’s drive from here. But somehow, in the six years I've lived here, I'd never gone.
It was a delight. The old rides are just beautiful, the carousel ponies hand carved, the feel and sound of the big Dragon Coaster on the wooden track very different than that of the big metal Six Flags coasters with which I'd grown up. It wasn’t as fast as the newer coasters, wasn't as tall. But I’m not always in favor of bigger-better-faster-more.
Cotton candy! I’m not sure if they were geniuses of spun sugar there, or if it’s just been a long time since I’ve had any. It was nearly ethereal: the taste of a joyful cloud, like someone whispering “I love you” in your ear so softly that you aren’t quite sure you’ve heard it right.
The little tiger stuffed toy I won on the Midway is grinning at me. Suddenly, unlike on most days, I’ve lost my sense of time. But I've regained my sense of place, for a little while, at least.
We ended up first at the <a href="http://www.katonah-museum.org/museum_information.html">Katonah Museum of Art </a>, a little place of two rooms and a garden which has no permanent collection, but hosts traveling collections. The curators have good taste. I should keep a eye on what comes through there. The next day, we ended up at the <a href="http://www.hammondmuseum.org>Hammond Museum </a>. The outdoor section of this is a classic Japanese strolling garden, as interpreted by a Manahttan socialite who decided to become a bohemian, but still had piles of money to spare. Indoors, there are two small exhibit rooms which show a changing collection of stuff. One of the rooms had an exhibit of exquisite paintings of trout by James Prosek, who at nineteen years old published <a href ="http://www.troutsite.com/books/trout.html> a book of his paintings </a>which quickly sold 80,000 copies. Apparently, he really loves fish, he's really good at depicting fish, and lots of people want to see fish. I kind of wish I'd found my calling that early, though I'd settle for finding it now.
But the best part was this morning, when my sister asked me to join her family at <a href ="www.ryeplayland.org"> Rye Playland </a>. Playland was the first intentionally designed amusement park in the United States, and it still has the original layout, and a lot of the original rides, mostly built in 1928 and 1929. It was declared a National Historic Monument sometime in the eighties, and was been taken over by the Westchester County government, which means it’s technically a public park. It's about a half-hour’s drive from here. But somehow, in the six years I've lived here, I'd never gone.
It was a delight. The old rides are just beautiful, the carousel ponies hand carved, the feel and sound of the big Dragon Coaster on the wooden track very different than that of the big metal Six Flags coasters with which I'd grown up. It wasn’t as fast as the newer coasters, wasn't as tall. But I’m not always in favor of bigger-better-faster-more.
Cotton candy! I’m not sure if they were geniuses of spun sugar there, or if it’s just been a long time since I’ve had any. It was nearly ethereal: the taste of a joyful cloud, like someone whispering “I love you” in your ear so softly that you aren’t quite sure you’ve heard it right.
The little tiger stuffed toy I won on the Midway is grinning at me. Suddenly, unlike on most days, I’ve lost my sense of time. But I've regained my sense of place, for a little while, at least.
