Friday, May 16, 2008

Train story

Yesterday I went to see the Murakami show at the Brooklyn Museum with Judy Fox. On the ride back she told me about the time she spaced out on the subway and missed her stop. Finding herself at the end of the line, she jumped out, ran upstairs, over the bridge, and downstairs in time to catch the train as it came around to go uptown again, and when the doors opened she leapt in and sat down right next to…her purse.


Civic Center said...

That is my new favorite story of all time. And something similar occurred to me about 30 years ago in San Francisco involving a briefcase with irreplaceable originals of work I was supposed to typeset, so I know exactly how miraculous the reunion felt.

Anonymous said...

I like the way you made the digital image of a painting by Murikami become the perfect commentary on his work. Your story about your friend and her purse and the subway system is a perfect parallel universe to contrast Murikami's work with. It comes together in the word purse. Your anecdote doesn't necessarily have any connection with the Murikami image and/or his work except in a formal sense; it appears right below it. When the final word in the paragraph appears Murikami and the anedote become inextricably connected, if only in an ambiguous or vague, or poetic sense.