Saturday, 12 April 2008

Saturday Night

Running Grass, an ex-monk from Seattle, is meeting the Dalai Lama in a few hours' time. The best thing at the RCA tonight was the bookstand which was constructed by a product design student. Made of wooden 2 by 2s and taped together, it bent, but was sturdy. It fit all compositional requirements: long bits, short bits in vertigo and then longish and shortish widths which were then strung with yellow string and looked like harps, but held the books well. Gave one a slanted feeling of crossing dunes.
Bearded youths read some poetry in the basement. People sprawled themselves on the floor with their free beers and Kevin arrived just after the applause.
Films were playing...Tarkovsky. No one was watching. No one had the two hour attention span necessary. An experimental film of black and white shapes took up our attention for five minutes until Ben said it was time to leave. A lot of work had gone into the construction of the film theatre. Then, for some quirky reason, a waffle was glued to the wall. ...typical art school thing to do. Ben ran around the gallery with a tiny tiny car that Richard produced out of thin air. Someone suggested that he race it down the length of the gallery, so this kept him busy for a long time. Richard pointed out the Polish Club, a swank dimly lit pink establishment that serves coffee and dinners with pierogi appetizers across from Imperial College. Popped into the Paper Tiger for a late buffet. Ben entertained the wait staff and the couple from Moscow...the lady who wears sunglasses in the evening. They are moving back to Moscow soon.

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