~ April 21, 2003 - 4:17 p.m. ~
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Yesterday was Easter. On Easter four years ago, I spend the day reeling because the night before I had gone out on my first date with a charming young fellow named Tim. And he had kissed me, and so I spent the day in a state of gooey bliss.Everyone who was cringing at the sappiness of the last paragraph can go shove an Easter-egg up their ass. I was 17 and very happy.
Yesterday, I woke up and began preparing the Easter ham. While it was baking (it took about and hour and a half to prepare, and then two hours to bake), I was watching this spiffy documentary on PBS (I love doumentaries, I'm such a nerd). It was about representations of Jesus in art since the beginning of organized Christianity, and running right up through the Reformation, when it was more fashionable to smash Christian art than to make it. It was cool, because it looked at the art from an art-historical and political point of view, as opposed to a religious one. It was talking about all the laws that have been passed over the years about how Jesus can be depicited in art, and why certain symbols (like the fish and the lamb) stand for Jesus. It was really fascinating, and they spent a lot of time talking about the earliest representations, and how Christians were persecuted, so they had to hide their art in the catacombs. They also talked about Byzantium, and how iconoclism almost destroyed all this priceless art. Here's the website .
So I'm watching this documentary, and I begin to realize that the narrator's voice is really familiar. Then he said this one phrase that made it click where I'd heard him before. It was Mel Gibson! And I'm thinking to myself, "oh come on! It's not Mel Gibson. He has better things to do than narrate a documentary on Jesus in Art." But then when I looked at the credits, he was listed as one of the narrators, so I guess he doesn't have anythign better to do.
Anyway, when the ham was done, pAndi and I took it down to Cooper where Tim, Jack, Jakeland, and Dom were hanging Tim's senior show. We had a little picnic, and then pAndi and I stuck around to help hang stuff. At about midnight, I fell asleep in the back room. Tim eventually moved me to the painting studio where it was quieter and there was a couch to sleep on. He woke me up at four in the morning when it was time to go home. By then, my neck was all fucked up and one eye was all big and puffy for some reason. It's actually still rather swollen. Anyway, we had to walk home with all the leftover food because neither of us had cab fare. It was cold so Tim let me wear his jacket. It was so quiet that we could hear birds chirping in the trees, which was rather novel for Manhattan. It was so late/early that the bagel truck guys were setting up for the morning rush. We didn't get into bed until five.
The show is tomorrow, and I can't wait until this school year is done. I am entirely ready to graduate.
