Dark chocolate sorbet blew my mind. The chai ice cream with crystallized ginger also won top marks. Other flavors to check out: mint chocolate cookie ice cream, spiced strawberry sorbet, Grounded house espresso ice cream, chocolate ice cream, mango cardamom sorbet and coconut creamsicle sorbet.

I had noted I Was Told There’d Be Cake by Sloane Crosley as a book I would probably enjoy reading, but without a sense of urgency. Then comes this short film and these diorama diaries. Sloane creates elaborate multi-media dioramas in lucite boxes for a bunch of her stories and brings them to life in these videos. Ha! I am falling in love. And ordering your book. Thanks for making me laugh!

“Like most people I imagine do, I have three sets of magnetic poetry. I don’t know why you wouldn’t. One of them is cat themed, which is in no way pathetic.” (from Diary of a Diorama: Smell This)

She turns around to look at me and says “Oh My God, Oh My God.” I wonder what has her so freaked out. “You are so beautiful,” she says. I laughed and thanked her, leaning my arm out for a cab. “No — you don’t understand. I was born a man. And I’ve been studying real women my whole life. And you are just so beautiful — for real.” A cab arrived, and Jasmine turned chivalrous, opening the door for me and making sure my bag got into the trunk, then asked for (and got) a big hug goodbye. We didn’t exchange numbers, so thanks for turning my day around, Jasmine.

Strolling back from depositing the dresses and trying to decide between eggs at Petite Abeille or something salady at Le Pain Quotidien, I see “The New French” written on the windows of the old Le Gamin at 522 Hudson St (btw W. 10th St and Charles St, New York, NY 10014) in Maira Kalman’s unmistakable handwriting. Peering through the windows I see a funny table of guys waving at me to enter. So I do. Adorable wall mural by Maira Kalman (detail above) and short but intriguing menu (also in Maira’s handwriting) of bistro dishes with a twist plus pho and vegetable curry.

Gorilla Coffee served in a French press (naturally) with a four-minute timer. Good vibes from the kitchen and waitstaff; they seemed like they were happy to be there too. All kinds of great restaurant DNA with an owner from Blue Ribbon, and former sous chef from Tabla and Resto.

My spinach/pepper/gruyere omelette accompanied by fresh baby greens and shaved yellow beets was so lovely and delicious it conjured up the plastic bag scene from “American Beauty“. Is dinner tonight too soon to go back?

Inside the paper that accompanied me to brunch, OK Go’s Damian Kulash Jr. contributed a great op-ed “Beware the New New Thing” on Net neutrality in terms of the old rules of common carriage. Across the page, Adam Cohen editorially observed “The Already Big Thing on the Internet: Spying on Users,” explaining that the fourth amendment of the US Constitution’s bill of rights, which guarantees protection against illegal search and seizure, was originally concerned with protecting homes and bodies then extended to cover telephone communications.

He concludes that work has to be done to grant Internet communications the same level of privacy protection. I agree, but are we even still protected by the 4th? Looks to me like we’re back to Bill of Rights basics and work has to be done to assure any privacy protection at all. I guess it’s a perfect time to dig into Jonathan Zittrain’s intriguing new book, The Future of the Internet — and How to Stop It.

Song of the day: “Willie Deadwilder” by Cat Power (Specifically the one from Speaking For Trees, though they’re all good.)

Related Posts:

• The Principles of Uncertainty with Maira Kalman
• Links for 2007-05-23: Places We Love
• Links for 2007-04-02: Her Story is Strange
• Links for 2006-11-06
• Links for 2006-05-04

Tinfoil hats are so passé. So what should you wear to Faraday’s Cafe?

Check out the latest collection of electromagnetic field blocking and “anti-identity theft” clothing at DDCLAB (427 W 14th St, New York NY 10014 map).

Here’s the text from the windows:

EMF: Electro Magnetic Field Block
Anti•Identity•Theft•Fabric
Electric Resistivity
measure of how strongly a material opposes the flow of electric current and allows the movement of electrical charge.

DDCLAB
Woven of super sheer mesh polyester fibers coated with blackened copper, this high performance ultra thin, light weight and flexible mesh shield has a high ohm/sq resistivity that protects against identity theft by blocking high tech scanners from lifting valuable passport and ID information.

What’s the best way to get from New York to Boston? It’s not the Delta Shuttle or Amtrak Acela. Forget about Fung Wah and Vamoose. The most fabulous, luxurious and yet relatively environmentally friendly way to get from the Big Apple to Beantown is… the bus. But not just any bus, it’s the LimoLiner. (Even Samantha Baker from Sixteen Candles would approve.)

I’m posting this from somewhere along the Mass Pike on a bus with 28 spacious seats, electrical power outlets, wifi, lunch and beverage service by a pleasant attendant, movies, magazines, uninterrupted cell service (and a cell-free area as well). You can select your seat in advance online, and you can book a 10 seat conference area in back for meeting before the big meeting. I never thought I’d say this, but… I love the bus.

LimoLiner.com $89 one way.
888.546.5469
Departure and Arrival Poins: Hilton in Midtown NYC and Hilton in Boston’s Back Bay with optional stop in Framingham, MA.

N.B. If you’re traveling from the Framingham stop to the Babson Executive Conference Center (or back), Veterans Taxi was almost half the price of Wellesley Carriage (508. 653.5027). But if you’re on someone else’s dime or just don’t care, note you can charge Wellesley Carriage to your room at the conference center.

Kenro Izu: Bhutan, the Sacred Within
November 2, 2007–February 18, 2008
Rubin Museum of Art
150 West 17th Street, New York, NY 10011

What a treat to hear Kenro Izu talk with Owen Flanagan at the Rubin Museum of Art in conjunction with the opening of his exhibition of photographs, “Bhutan: The Sacred Within.” Kenro Izu’s been exploring and photographing sacred sites both natural and manmade for decades. To look at his landscapes of sacred places around the world is to enter them; you can almost smell and taste the air inside the image. In “The Sacred Within,” he turns his lens to the essential element that makes a place sacred: the people that revere it and hold it in their hearts.

Out of all the places he has photographed, Bhutan has especially captivated him, drawing him back six times over six years. Izu writes in the introduction to his accompanying book, Bhutan, “Traveling many years, I have not yet seen a place as peaceful as Bhutan, or a place affecting such a peacefulness within myself. If there is a place indeed named Utopia, this place may come the closest to it.”

Bhutan, known as the “Land of the Thunder Dragon,” is a small independent country of 700,000 people nestled in the Himalayan mountains between China, Tibet and India. What struck him on his first visit was how unique it was among Himalayan lands with its abundance of lush green trees and glacier fed rivers. He was moved by how the high altitude air was unusually moist and dense. And he was struck by how rich the people seemed, which he noted might sound odd considering the average GNP per capita is under US $1000, but he never saw anyone begging for money. Instead, people appeared well fed and well dressed, even happy.

Kenro Izu’s custom-built large format camera on display at Rubin Museum of Art, 2005. Photo by Emily Davidow

Izu travels with a custom-built large-format camera with a 14″ x 20″ negative that captures the density of the air and the quality of light. His large format platinum palladium prints appear illuminated from within, offering a depth that transcends two dimensions. That also makes them an ideal medium for portraits. Why did it take Izu such a long time to shift from the sacred places to the people that make them so? “I am shy of people. Can’t point the camera at them.”

Spontanaeity is another challenge with his turn-of-the-last-century technology. Every picture has to be staged, “like a diorama of a scene.” He described the process of making an image that looks like a candid of two schoolboys walking and looking back at him (Druk #537, Bumthang, Bhutan 2007). He had seen them walking to school near Tamshing Lhakhang in the morning and envisioned the shot, but they were in a rush to get to school, so he set up to meet them after school and take the photograph.

While the images may not be spontaneous, Izu pointed out how un-self-conscious, authentic and neutral his subjects seemed. This neutrality is something Izu aspires to himself, as he repeated in several ways the idea that “I always want to be myself, not bigger or smaller.” To Izu, it seems the Bhutanese have found a middle way between the precious modesty of the Japanese and the super-sized egos of America.

Is this lack of self-consciousness due to inner peace, Buddhist ideas of the self, or freedom from the continuous stream of marketing images in America and Japan (where Izu, now a Brooklyn resident, was born)? Bhutan just launched television and Internet service in 1999, and the Bhutanese are consciously creating media that reflects their values and culture rather than relying on foreign imports. Even the movie theaters are filled with steady streams of Bhutanese feature films. I had hoped we’d get more deeply into this in discussion with Flanagan, a professor of psychology, brain sciences and neurobiology at Duke University, as well as the author of The Really Hard Problem: Meaning in a Material World and the paper ‘The Bodhissattva’s Brain: The Neuroscience of Wisdom, Virtue, and Happiness,’ but I’ll have to check those out along with his talks online from the Mind and Reality Symposium to learn more about his thoughts on these issues.

Kenro Izu, Druk # 545 Jambay Lhakhang, Bumthang, Bhutan, 2007, Carbon pigment print, 52 x 36 in.

Izu introduced Bhutan’s progress indicator of GNH (Gross National Happiness), declared more important than GDP (Gross Domestic Product) by King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck as early as 1986. According to the Bhutanese government’s definition, Gross National Happiness depends upon four main pillars: economic self-reliance, environmental stewardship, cultural preservation and good governance.

Cultural preservation refers to the teachings and practice of Buddhism that infuse every aspect of life and value wisdom and compassion*. It also encompasses aesthetic values of beauty and harmony. (China’s a PC, Bhutan is a Mac.) Izu captures many of the Bhutanese traditions in his portraits: the indigenous ceremonial Tsechu masks and costumes, tulkus (reincarnated rinpoches), meditating monks, and families enjoying each other.

Flanagan brought up Aristotle’s observation that if you ask people what is the greatest good, everyone will agree that it is happiness. But if you ask people to define happiness, everyone offers up a different answer. He also noted that while the people in Izu’s portraits looked happy, they weren’t exuding a feeling of “happy happy joy joy” so much as serenity and equanimity. He framed the discussion asking Izu whether it was a real happiness, and if so, what is that happiness?

Izu offered a more personal definition from his guide in Bhutan, along with a lively photo exemplifying it: “three generations under one roof, tea, rice and healthy, enjoying life.” Both Izu and Flanagan seemed wistful about the depth and strength of these familial relationships in contrast to the dispersed nuclear families of contemporary Japan and America. Asked but not answered: Is that the price of modernity? And is what the Bhutanese have impossible in the modern world?

As I viewed Izu’s exhibition, I couldn’t help thinking about the portraits of Edward S. Curtis, a photographer who used similar methods to document Native American people. Curtis set out to catalog their ceremonies, beliefs, daily life and landscapes in twenty volumes of “The North American Indian” before it was too late. Although the conditions of the Bhutanese people in 2007 are vastly different from those of the Native American people of 1907, there are striking visual parallels between the black and white images depicting the spiritual life of both cultures with their exquisite textiles, shamanistic masks, and ritual objects, taken by admiring outsiders. Will Bhutan lose its culture as it opens itself up to global communications and technology, foreign travelers and investment, and new forms of government or can it hold on to its sacred within?

Of course, awareness of both impermanence and the interconnectedness of all things is central to their Buddhist teachings. The last image Izu presented illustrated that with an image of a young girl in a field of cosmos flowers (Druk #444, 2006). He saw this herbaceous perennial in pink, red and white dancing all over the foot of the Himalayan mountains and figured it must be the national flower of Bhutan. What a surprise to learn the species was introduced only 50 years ago by an Irish doctor who brought antibiotics to Bhutan along with a single bag of cosmos flower seeds to remind him of home. He couldn’t have imagined these lovely blossoms would find such an ideal combination of soil and climate in the Himalayas.

Indeed, who can predict what will take root and flourish between the cross-pollination of cultures? May the seeds of GNH — oh, let’s go for GGH (Gross Global Happiness) — take root and blossom in hospitable growing media as people encounter the concept. Izu’s exhibition is a beautiful place to start.

* The finer points of how to manifest GNH are continually unfolding and will be explored at the Third International Conference on Gross National Happiness held in Bangkok, Thailand November 22-28, 2007. The ongoing discussion can be followed at the Centre for Bhutan Studies.

Reporting from New York Criminal Court, 100 Centre St, Jury Duty, Day 2. Wow, the wheels of justice move slowly. At least you can now enjoy wifi while you’re waiting to be called, so bring your laptop (Twitter, Facebook and Meebo blocked). But during voir dire, you are expected to pay attention even while you’re not being interviewed. Not continuous partial attention but laptops, iphones and sketchbooks away total attention. You may observe, meditate, be present, and check in with yourself. You can also suck on hard candies*.

Lucky for you, Papabubble just opened a few blocks away [380 Broome St at Mulberry St, 212.966.2599]. This wondrous candy laboratory with outposts in Barcelona and Tokyo provides the ultimate in jury duty lozenges: fruit candies that look like Venetian millefiore glass, peppermint pebbles and addictive chocolate-filled coffee bites. They also handcraft giant lollies, gold-tipped finger rings and even anatomically correct hearts (which I would definitely not advise sucking on in the courtroom). If you’re feeling thrifty, note they also have bags of aesthetically inferior ‘seconds’ that start at fifty cents.

* Note you can, but you may not… I am not offering legal advice. Don’t follow me. At least be quiet about it.

Technorati Tags: candy, food, jury duty, nyc, restaurants, vegetarian

Other sweet treats nearby:

• Chinatown Ice Cream Company [65 Bayard Street btw Mott and Elizabeth 212.608.4170] I personally recommend the black sesame seed, green tea, red bean and ginger flavors. Love that the Asian flavors are listed as ‘traditional’ and the western standards as ‘exotics.’)
• Longans and rambutans from fruit vendors throughout Chinatown.

Where to eat vegetarian when you’re on jury duty in NYC:

• Wild Ginger [380 Broome St btw Mott & Mulberry 212.966.1883 menu]
• Buddha Boddai [5 Mott St at Worth 212.566.8388 menu]
• Vegetarian Dim Sum House [24 Pell St at Doyers St 212.577.7176 menu]

Loved this jury duty report from Melissa Kirsch, author of the fun and useful book, The Girl’s Guide to Absolutely Everything.

Map of places noted in this article:

View Larger Map

Do you engage with pleasure, curiosity, fun and celebration (with time for naps) in the face of the tragedy of the day? Do you want to? This is the book for you.

Maira Kalman’s delightful new release, The Principles of Uncertainty, turns out to be a heavy book. Mostly physically. Kalman says it’s because the book is extensively inked: “all the colors are in there.” Even if you’ve been following this year-long illustrated journal at the New York Times, the high-resolution images of her gouache paintings are undeniably gorgeous in print. (Even more so in person at the Julie Saul Gallery through November 24, 2007.)

Aside from the inherent pleasures of the portable printed format, the book offers a few bonuses to those already familiar with the images:

• A pull out “Map of the United States” by Kalman’s beautiful mother, Sara Berman, with instructions to: “Either put it on the wall or put it back in the book. If you put it back in the book, it may one day fall out when someone browses through the book and it will become a thing that falls out of the book.”



• An appendix filled with “things that fall out of books” and a fabulous collection of numbers in the wild. (Kalman would love the Numbers fonts by Hoefler & Frere-Jones.)
• Luscious liner page images of mosses of Long Island.
• An index that’s amusing on its own, featuring laughter, love (as a guarantee of sanity), finding self, forgetting, forgiveness, hairdos, dreams (bad, fragment of, good, malaise after bad, no answer to), and even happiness. One thing you won’t find in the index is “inner peace” (p. 245-6), a phrase that seems to trigger its opposite for Kalman. (What is that about?)

Kalman celebrated the release of the book at the New York Public Library with a 37.5 minute conversation with Paul Holdengräber, followed with 3 songs composed by Nico Muhly, and cake instead of questions. Instead of questions from the audience, that is. All Maira’s works wrestle with the eternal existential dilemma: “We are here now, and we are not going to be here at a certain point, so what is that about?” and the natural corollary, “What would we do all day long, forever?”

I don’t know what we’ll do forever, but I highly recommend checking out how Kalman observes the world, “making sense and then nonsense” out of it with grace, gratitude and joie de vivre, today.

• The Principles of Uncertainty book on Amazon
• The Principles of Uncertainty blog on NYT
• NYT’s video highlights of the celebration at the NYPL