Art

I bought my first piece of original artwork at an art show this weekend.  It was bizarre.  Like the first time I rode in a tank back in the Army. It was something I've always known happened but never thought I'd do it and never thought it would be that easy.  (Note: firing a tank isn't bizarre.  That's just plain fucking awesome.) 

It's a really stunning piece made by a Chicago street artist.  I loved it at first sight and, truth be told, buying it also had a sorta bucket list feel to it.  

However, it also makes me feel better about my place in life.  Buying art to hang on my wall makes me feel like my little rent-stabilized piece of NYC is just a bit more solid than the day before yesterday.  I've been on the go for so long that I can't remember the last time I thought about my present having any physical connection to my future.  Until yesterday.