instead, i wandered onto a beach in a ukrainian populated part of brooklyn where people wearing headlamps caught crab in the dark. i stepped on dead fish, nearly walked into a giant spider and coated my feet in sticky sand. it was all part of a scheme to attend a clandestine art party re-enacted after a 5-year hiatus. the directions, received by phone after arriving in a remote parking lot, were too complex for me to remember and after walking a half mile without a sign of the next turn and walking into dark plants, my roommate and i decided to abort the mission. the aerial view of this stretch of beach put the supposed location of this party (i like to convince myself there were only maybe 5 people there, including the one guy i heard shouting "WOOO" in the background while i received directions) out on some remote arm by some remote lagoon under some random bridge. still...i went because i was looking for an adventure of sorts. it just turns out i wasn't as up for it as i thought i might have been.
i still somehow stayed up til sunrise and leaked into my sunday with a yankees game, a long, stuffy subway ride home and me, crawling into bed early.
non-art weekend succeeded.
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