(in More Ways Than One)

I was recently asked by a colleague if I knew anything about the “underground” art parties that are reputedly being thrown in Williamsburg. The fact of the matter is I do not. As some of you, dear readers, might recall I am by education (and to a lesser degree, trade) an artist in my own right. During graduate school I was even a teaching fellow— but I digress. I was often asked by my fellow students if my work was the product of partaking certain mind-expanding substances. They always seemed disappointed when I gave them the honest answer: no. I was (and still am) simply strange. I mention the previous anecdotes because as I was walking around Williamsburg recently I stumbled upon something quite remarkable.


At first I thought this was your standard “Bloomieville” (homeless encampment)…


and a pretty nice one at that. It isn’t.


The first indication that something was amiss was the scattering of Froot Loops next to the mattress.


After a little poking around I found the box. (NOTECAVEAT: this and any of the following images can be seen in larger format by clicking on them. Do so at your own risk.)




Same goes for the advertising insert on the bed.


This, which is also located under the sidewalk shed.


Here’s the other side.


This, which can be found around the corner on Kent Avenue. As you can see now Frank Gehry has entered the picture— and what a picture it is!


And finally this— which can be found at the intersection of Metropolitan and Wythe Avenue.

Let this be a lesson to all you aspiring artists out there lest you decide to expand your mind and do a little creating. Sometimes it’s better to just let that Sharpie be. It is not cosmic consciousness that is powering your pen: it’s the drugs.

Miss Heather


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