Make My Joy Complete

Over the past few weeks I have really been pondering what the co-op term is supposed to amount to. Are we supposed to mesh ourselves into society, and then rip ourselves away like a stubborn band-aid? Or remain a prolonged tourist, and live life only for "I was here" photos? I admit, I am still not comfortable with the idea of being comfortable here, but I don't want to feel displaced everywhere I lay my head anymore.

With the encouragement of friends, I volunteered at a homeless shelter in the East Village this morning, serving breakfast to over 400 people. i have never shaken so many cold hands in a row. One Chinese woman told me I was beautiful. I teared up a bit, seeing this mass of people flowing in, for the food, but also for the warmth and the chance to break. Everyone was allowed to have as much food as they wanted, but as the breakfast was about to end at 11, they just weren't making anymore food. How do you tell someone no when they ask you for food? And how about when they are 10? Or how do you tell them, I'm sorry, we are closing; you are going to have to go back in the cold? Emotionally wrenching. Met some people from my church through this, though; I am becoming interlaced into my church. It has only taken a cumulative four and a half months.

Went to the Deitsch gallery today to see Stefan Sagmeister's stuff before it was dismantled tonight, and he was there. Can't believe I had the guts to do this, but I asked him how he could consider some of his installation pieces "design" when they were not working towards the goals of the client (recap: this is the Grammy-winning, famed graphic designer whose lecture I attended on tuesday, and I, the lowly midwest graphic design student, am questioning him as a designer). He said, "That is a very good question," and proceeded to explain his reasoning, which I somewhat agreed with. I was just glad he didn't publically denounce me.

Went to the Ingo Maurer gallery, the FIT museum to see the Madame Grés exhibit, the Horst P. Horst photography exhibit at the Forbes gallery, and unsuccessfully tried to win Hairspray and Wicked tickets.

Saw this 10 year old kid staked out behind some steps in Soho, and he was pummeling passerbys with snowballs. When I witnessed his first sneak attack, I laughed out loud so hard, I got a little attention myself, but it was amazing. He was glad I was amused.