The resolutions WILL be publicized

It goes without saying that I want to make my best art (so far) in 2009. Here's a very early sketch for the next project.

Every year, I post my New Year's resolutions publicly so as to keep myself accountable. Normally there's some sort of ritual (such as writing my inhibitions and burning them on the solstice) to give the vows life. As rituals are typically handled by countrymouse and since are stuck in the City this year, there may not be any pagan activities (though we're always game for them if the right opportunity presents itself).

Whether because of those psst rituals, the abundant scrutiny resulting from my very public resolutions, or some kind of mental fortitude I may or may not possess, my past resolutions have generally been pretty successful even though often quite ambitious. The next post will evaluate last year's projects.

Enough blah blah blah. Time for the meat of the post. Don't worry though, I keep a few projects secret--no need to share all of my emotional laundry with the blogosphere.

Get back to kicking ass.
I see now that my recent bout of illness was preceded (perhaps caused) by some serious emotional lethargy. Time to get back to work.

Get a Manhattan gallery with a global reach.
Obviously not the best time for that but in good times and bad ya gotta keep pushing.

Sleep8 hours 4/7 days.
Good sleep is key and the best way to get sleep is to get into bed early--so that will mean bed by 11.

Eat a salad or greens every day.
This resolution from last year worked out quite well so we're bringing it back for a second season.

Pivot problems into opportunities.
Interpret that however you wish.

Make sure city and country mice both get what they need.
Be proactive--don't wait for the wigout before skipping town. So this vow really should be more like "get Countrymouse into the country on the regular so he doesn't get ornery and start ranting about how much he hates the City."

Continue run-run-recovery plan.
Take an active recovery day (swimming or something like that) every three days with two quality runs in between. That means no--or few--"easy" runs. It's unconventional but it seems to work for me.

Improve last year's Boston performance.
Read the gory post-mortem here.

Find a balance between desire to improve my position and a very hearty appreciation for what I have.
I think the latter is the more difficult.

Take-no-prisoners approach to networking.
Approach social networking situations like a ship full of vikings would an unsuspecting village.

Update: I've posted my evaluation of the 08 vows here.

The coolest part of the highlight of a nice holiday weekend

There are plenty of familiar faces at the Yousuf Karsh retrospective at the MFA.
Karsh, Estrellita Karsh, 1963. (MFA via Time.com)

On Boxing Day, Cole and I left the Booga with his grandparents (we were staying in Rhode Island) and spent a date-day in Boston. I wanted to see several shows at the MFA followed by some strolling, casual coffee, opportunistic post-Xmas recession sale trolling, dinner and
conversation. Just a nice day together, which I'm sure the parents among you will appreciate.

We had a nice lunch at the museum's mid-casual cafe between the excellent Assyrian show and the promising Karsh photoretrospective. We sat next to a striking older woman I was sure I had seen someplace before. She was eating with a younger woman (perhaps my age) who kept thanking her profusely for something (we could not hear what). She personalized a catalogue from the Karsh exhibit and Cole glimpsed the name Karsh in the signature (we were sitting that close).

Later, after the nice Rachel Whitetead installation, we took our time and took a quality look at the Karsh show. After all the famous portraits--Einstein, Jackie-O, Mother Theresa, we saw one that positively made our jaws drop: his widow Estrellita, the woman from the cafe! It was only then we noticed every piece in the show was "courtesy Estrellita Karsh." That explained some things.

I love it when I catch a personal glimpse at the invisible bonds that tie the universe together, an artist's version of "dark matter." I love to witness capital moments and I love it when some instinct alerts me to that moment's importance. It was cool that I was able to share that moment with someone who knew how to fully appreciate it.

On a wonderful day that was the best part of the holiday weekend, that moment was the highlight, the beating heart that sent the blood of inspiration coursing through my soul.

---

Postscript: I crossed Bedford Avenue to write this entry at the Rabbit Hole, which has become a sort of writers room for both Meredith and me. The writing took a lot longer than expected because an excellent band was playing (they've never had music there before): Brooklyn
Browngrass, one of my favorites. Turns out their members are from Charlottesville. A thousand more dark matter threads to explore there if I wanted to...

But it's late, we're all tired, the cafe is closing and it's time to file my missive. They'll be back next Saturday...

Happy Holidays

City Mouse and Country Mouse join to wish you a joyous holiday season full of music and bird song, stimulation and contemplation, peace and nergy, and the sublime Joy of Living.

The End is not the End

If you can only go to one gallery-closing party/wake this weekend, this is the one: death is not the end @ 31grand. They do death exceptionally well and have found a way to make it a cool mini-genre. More importantly though it will be a good party and no one deserves a toast (or a hug) than they do.

Hope to see you there.

Info: http://www.art2bank.com/press/breaking-news/31grand-death-is-not-the-end-c.php

Grass Clippings approach the cost of Weed

Editor’s Note: We try to limit CountryMouse to just a few anti-New York rants per year. It’s hard enough to live here without being constantly reminded of the dirt, pettiness, corruption, trauma, and various indignities that punctuate daily life here in Gotham. In this case though, we determined that since Country’s diatribe is not limited to New York and because there are broader points contained therein, we should run the piece and let the pieces fall where they may. Enjoy.

I stopped by the local health food store yesterday to pick up some vitamin C packets to help nail the coffin lid on my broncitis. I shop at this place because it’s the closest thing to reasonable in the neighborhood. For example Kombucha costs $4 there, which is the prevailing market price in the City, but a dollar less than anywhere else in the hood. Nothing can be described as ‘cheap’ around here anymore—except the quality of the new construction, which is more like ‘shoddy’ anyway.

Well I had paid my $1 for three Emergen-C packets and turned to go. The guy at the juice counter put a tiny (1 oz) paper cup in front of me, with a thick green liquid. Thinking it a free sample, I swigged that little shot down. (My assumption was not unreasonable based on the tiny product size and the fact that there’s usually some kind of crumbled nutrition bar on a little plate at that spot). On my way out, I asked the juice-barista what it was and he told me "wheatgrass."
Not unexpected at a juice bar.

As I reached the door, the store’s only other customer, a thickly-bespectacled hipster from England yelled, "Hey! I just paid for that!"

"How much?"

"Two fifty," replied hipster and cashier in unison. "It’s really good for you, full of antioxidants," added the man whose morning concoction I had inadvertently swiped.

"It had better be at that price," was my grumple (a grumpy rumble).

Of course, it's a fad-inflated supply-demand thing just like the kombucha. Still, its a sign of a dying society that folks pay the rough equivalent of $40/pound for grass clippings and then drink it. Sebastian goes most days without seeing a single blade of grass, apart from what I grow in my flower box to keep the soil conditioned. I can never shake the contrast between that and the amount of time I’ve spent mowing, playing on, and rolling in the green stuff.

I think humanity’s future is an urban one, characterized by much increased density. Yet the human need for green is irrepressible and comes out like, well, grass through cracks in our paved lives and this is a pathetic response to that need.

I’m sorry: I know you may like your wheat grass shots in your custom juice drink and I may have offended you. I myself have written many times in praise of chlorophyll’s nutritional benefits. But a little drop of sunshine on your tongue a few times a week is no substitute for clean air, a sky that you can actually see, and a soft earth to lay on. No wonder everyone around here is in therapy.

But ya know, it doesn't have to be like that...

i'm baaaack!

In an art fair that's really an art market, you'll see few risks. Not surprisingly, many of the most interesting projects were not in the Convention Center big-top or the various side-show tent fairs but rather along the Midway outside. Among the best, Ana Linnemann's Invisible (the spinning palm tree below).

I had a great time in Miami and my next post will tell some of my impresssions. First though, I wanted to let everyone know I got a new phone so I'm reachable again.

My last day in Miami was reserved for the beach. It was perfect: bright, sunny, and in the eighties. And down there, the beach you get when you walk out the door rivals anything I've seen on the East Coast. Just beautiful!

Imagine my sadness when I stepped out of the plane that afternoon at Laguardia and was greeted by 32 degrees--a full fifty degree drop! I came down with a chill that very instant, curled up in the back of my cab and I still haven't quite shaken it.

Why do we put up with this ridiculous weather? Someone really ought to say something...

i-don't-phone

I've felt very disconnected since losing my phone!

Denise Prince at the Bridge Art Fair Miami Wynwood

D@mn! I lost my brand new iPhone as I was walking on the beach my first morning in Miami. It's locked and cannot be hacked and plus it has my name and email address. So there's every reason to think that it would be returned if discovered. Therefore I can only conclude that it got washed out with the tide and is now home to a hermit crab.

Worst possible timing, I've lost my portfolio, contacts, email and telephone in the midst of a marketing extravaganza. Needless to say I'm pretty bummed.

Trying to stay philosophical about the whole thing, I remind myself that it's just a toy (albeit one that cost a few hundred bucks) and that just a few years ago I managed to live without it just fine. Its an opportunity to be resourceful right? Depend on my friends' good will and the kindness of strangers, and they've really come through.

That part's pretty nice actually.

So forgive me if you can't reach me. I'll get a new phone next week and I'll be call ya right back!

Meet me at the fair...

My recent piece "Strange Blossoms" will make its debut at the Bridge Art Fair Miami (Wynwood) December 2-7. Stop by the Williamsburg Gallery Association booth and see the work.

I'll be there too and it would be fun to get together! Call me (646-244-0879) or email me (peter@culturecurrent.com) and we'll meet up!

Bridge Art Midtown
NE 1st Avenue & NW 34th Street
Opening Tuesday December 2, 6-10 pm
Show Info

Everyone needs a little break now and then.

No danger of me jumping in that chilly water--this time!

What a treat to slip out of the city and up to New Paltz for the weekend. The marathon was wonderful and all that but this countrymouse goes more than a little crazy without breathing the fresh air that only exists outside of major metroplitan areas on the regular.



The best way to protect you from monitor-induced blindness is to look up periodically and focus on something far away from time to time and for me I need to rest my soul periodically by spending time in nature and that's what we did. It's all too much otherwise.

More Sad News

Whoa! When it rains it pours!

I came to the Lucky Cat this afternoon to ask Lilah if she could host Sebastian's birthday party. She's done so before and it's always been a blast. It turns out that the answer is "no" because they're closing.

One of my favorite spots, I liked to go there for an afternoon studio break (their cookies are amazing), a late-night post-studio cocktail (they're right across from the studio), or an afternoon visitation with Sebastian. He loved the goldfish in the garden (where I once heard some lovely, passionate sex sounds on the wind), the croissants and we all loved Lilah and Sasha. She was so sweet to Sebastian and has been one of his many friendly guardian angels and godparents (in the most pagan sense of the word).

Just the other day, he asked if we could go to the Lucky Cat after the studio. It's part of the sudio ritual for him, along with wearing the home-made shark mask and working on one of his monumental paintings. It was getting toward dinner time so I promised him we'd come back this weekend in the afternoon. Maybe get one of Lilah's prime baked omlettes or devastating pizzas.

I guess not.

Again, you can't separate the Lucky Cat from Lilah's personality. So much that was great about the place--the incredibly laid-back ambiance, the delicious fresh and organic food, the biodegradable take-out cutlery, the eclectic music and decor--was the reflection of a personal and very inclusive vision. The Lucky Cat was reggae, soul, punkrock, and more than a dash of spicy Cali-Mex, all rolled into one old-school hang-out. There was a great generosity of spirit and a personal touch that's extremely rare. and that too few people seem to value or comprehend.

It's getting harder and harder to find that. It just got a little harder...

Harbingers of Doom

Maureen Cavanaugh is the perfect artist to close 31 Grand. Her self portraits always struck me as eerily like gallery co-owner Megan Bush. Maureen's been with the gallery for quite some time and a great exemplar of the gallery's marriage of quality, gloss, and psychological intensity.

I ran into Megan Bush on the street yesterday. When I asked her about her opening tonight, she told me some sad and sadly unshocking news. They're closing their doors after this show.

It wouldn't be completely accurate to define this as the end of an era. That happened two years ago when they moved out of Williamsburg for the LES. They were one of the first and best galleries in Williamsburg and were at the epicenter of the action in many ways. Their openings down by the waterfront were always packed and the art they showed there was edgy, witty and extremely (and often pains-takingly) well executed. Their shows have always been about vision but also about quality. They've always run the place the way a gallery should be run.

The gallery cannot be separated in my mind from the two dynamic women behind it, Megan and Heather Stephens. They're both super-smart, organized, and two of the nicest people I've ever met. The opposite of flaky. At the same time, I've always felt that they're plugged into something special and that 31Grand merits watching. With their seemingly unlimited energy, instinctive and un-selfconscious style, and great taste 31 Grand is by all rights a gallery that ought to succeed.

When I asked Megan what was wrong, she said just two words: "the economy." Of course no one is exempt from this financial storm but it's especially sad to see 31Grand go down because they are right at the heart of the contemporary scene, but also ideal trail blazers for the future artworld.

I'm going to the opening tonight and will report back. More details soon, including a possible closing party.

After the Madness

Front-row seat on history. You don't often see wide shots from the photo truck but here's what I see during the marathon. Marilson Gomes dos Santos (yellow) dueled Abderrahim Goumri over the last ten miles and bested him with a blistering kick on Central Park South. Hard to imagine a better way to spend a sunday morning.

You might have wondered where I’ve been these last few weeks. I’ve been swamped in the annual madness that is my day job, the ING New York City Marathon. Such an amazing experience, I can hardly really call it a "job." Every year, when I tell people I’m working on the marathon, they always ask two questions,

1st question: "Do you run?"

Answer: "Well, I run around like crazy but I don’t run in the sense of participating. I’m kinda busy working the event."

I start out on the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge well before dawn, track the race from the photo truck in front of the leaders. Arriving just before the winner crosses the line, I watch the victory lap and then manage the pandamonium that ensues with the awards ceremony. I’ve been at it for eight hours by now and only a handful of the forty thousand have crossed the finish line. I grab a quick breather and then go back as the tired, spent, and hungry masses complete their marathon journey, some triumphant, some seemingly near death, and many just plain peculiar such as the infamous "Larry the Lighthouse."

It’s outrageous: forty thousand people fully blissed out, having achieved something truly monumental, many having overcome enormous doubt. It’s like witnessing forty thousand wedding days and it’s easy to understand why over a million people line the streets every year to cheer them along. That brings me to the inevitable second question people ask when they hear what I do.

"You get paid for that?" Not to say that I don’t earn my paycheck, but I do actually have to pinch myself to remember that I’m doing my job out there. It’s a major rush and a tremendous privilege to be out there. It’s exhausting but it’s amazing, not least because it's the culmination of months of work and at the end of a long sleep-deprived stretch.

And now it’s over for the year and it’s time to go back to being an everyday, working artist kind of guy. It's kind of a letdown actually like the day after Chrismas or some great life change, only accompanied by a physical exhaustion that is akin to having actually run the marathon. Time for some R&R...

Stealing Summer from the Jaws of Autumn

We ran into some REALLY old friends at Jacob Riis this weekend.

This was one of those weekends where you just have to get out--preferably near a body of water. Nevermind that we're deep into October.

So I gathered Sebastian, some sand toys, and a couple of artist friends and headed for the beach. We dug in the sand, we played chase, and--best of all--we swam. It was divine. The waves were gentle, the sand smooth, and the water was SOOOOO clear. Yes it was chilly--bracing. The day was so gorgeous and we had the wonderful beach all to ourselves with its once-glorious but now-semi-decrepit buildings aging very gracefully. The sun was bright but soft and the air so clear. It was a wonderful day.

We hopped back in the car when it started to get chilly and were home in half an hour. Unfathomable that we never left New York City.

More of the Brooklyn State of Mind

"I think that's my favorite piece in the show"
-The lady to my right in the blue shirt. Many others agreed.

Good news: my show in Clinton Hill has been extended through the month of October. It will be open weekends and by appointment through Halloween with a possible additional extension beyond that. The exhibition really looks terrific and apparently the Corcoran Group took notice.

We had a wonderful opening (thanks to everyone who stopped by!) and the weekend hours have seen steady foot traffic. On a personal level, I’m very excited to say that my "Aspirant" piece, (the ceiling one pictured above) sold to a collector in Long Island City. She’s going to try it over her bed, which for me is the ultimate position for those ceiling pieces. I wish I could fall asleep under its protective branches and be greeted by it in the morning!

If you haven’t been yet, stop by and check out the show. We’re having a party for what would have been the closing and it could be even better than the opening. A local Senegalese resto is catering and a bunch of my friends are coming. Trust me: it’s worth the trip!

Brooklyn as a State of Mind
95 Lexington Avenue (Brooklyn) [map]
Saturdays and Sundays 12 to 6 p.m.
Through October

Closing Reception
Sunday October 12, 6 to 9 p.m.

Brooklyn as a State of Mind

I wasn't sure what to make of this upcoming show, but now that it's installed I feel very excited. The show flat-out looks great and I think it will be a wonderful opportunity.

I installed Aspirant (left) on the ceiling and it looks magnificent that way. It's like nothing I've ever seen--and I'm the artist!

I've placed the two Dream Catcher drawings(previews here and here) high on a wall, in a kitchen area above the cabinets. Again, it's art in a way I've never seen.

Clerestory (below) completes the quartet and it's in a terrific spot in the first room. The others are a little further back but will surprise you when you see them.




Overall, the four pieces in the show are perhaps my strongest to date, making this a must-see show that hopefully will lead to good things. With forty artists, it should be a great and very lively opening.

Show Details

October 4 – 5 and October 11 – 12, 2008
Times: 12 noon to 6 pm

Opening Reception
Friday October 3, 6pm – 9pm

The LOFTS on LEX at 95 Lexington Avenue, Brooklyn, NY, 11238
Between Franklin and Classon Avenue [map]

Excellent write-up in HarlemWeek
Still More Info

A perfect weekend

I purposely left the SLR at home for the weekend so I could experience the time directly.
Still, I try to carry the elph in my pocket all the time and I'm glad I did...

I’m always a pretty happy person, but sometimes my life is just so sweet as to be almost embarrassing. Yet it’s made of small pleasures. Take this example of a how I spent a recent weekend.

Last Saturday (ten days ago) I had to drive up to the Catskills to pick retreive my and Drake’s work from our show up there. On the way there, I stopped in Sleepy Hollow for some serious running at the arcadian Rockefeller Estates—twelve miles through mist-shrouded fields and forests, followed by as huge brunch at the Horseman Diner. How could I go anywhere else?

The next two hours in the car were beautiful and got better and better as I wound through the heart of the Catskills. J-Dalt pointed reminded me the other day that for a parent, few pleasures rival a solo drive through beautiful countryside. Spoken like a true Californian but as true in the Hudson Valley as in Napa. The art was skillfully packed so it took about two seconds to load it in the car and be on my way, but not before receiving some sage advice about local hiking prospects.

On the way up, I had noticed a very promising lake with a swim platform in the middle. I found the park locked on the way home, but with a car parked by the gate—an irresistible invitation. I slipped over the cable, out of my jeans (I still had my running shorts underneath) and into the cool water. My fellow pond dippers turned out to be a group of citymice holed up in a nearby house for the weekend. I splashed around, floated on my back and looked at the sky and did a few flips and back into my clothes and on my way.

I soon spotted the turn for the hike I had heard about and wound my way into the mountains to the trailhead. As advertised, the path went up-up-up, often along stairs, through the mystical and lovely wilderness of Rip vanWinkle., with its strange rock formations, mosses, gnarled roots, ferns, and old trees. The path emerged onto a ledge straight out of Thomas Cole, with the Catskills spread out before me, peaks islands in the fog, like a Chinese scroll. An encounter with the Sublime.

On the way home, I stopped for some prime BBQ at a place my friend Pamela recommended. The trip was glorious and the fact that the final ten minutes took and hour and a half did nothing to diminish my joy. Even Countrymouse has become philosphical about the City’s annoyances—at least for a while.

As if to confirm my joy, as I unloaded the car, C-Lin chanced past the studio and I joined her at an opening at Sideshow on the way home from the studio. Gerbo was there, in full conviviality and he bought me a beer to wash the road dust from my palate.

That was Saturday.

Sunday was just as good. I had Sebastian all to myself as Cole took care of some of her business (which she graciously delayed to enable my trip). We had pancakes and wipped together a big dinner for later. We had to hurry a little bit because we had a date with the beach, along with some of the VCCA artists, who connected together quickly via txt-message. The day was gorgeous: hot, humid, with warm water, gentle waves, and perfectly clear sand. We made the best castle I’ve ever done (as one would expect from a gathering of sculptors). Then, at four o’clock, the season ended right before our eyes, as if a bell rang. suddenly a chilly breeze blew in from the sea and a day that had been muggy turned brisk. We wrapped in towels and returned to the warm car. There was freakishly little traffic on the way home and as well all hugged goodbye, we knew that we were also saying farewell to summer.

That night, we hosted a dinner party for Splinter, Amelia, Mayumi, John Mitchell and Anki. Great company, animated conversation, the curry I had made, just a glass or two of wine, and we all reconnected, back in the City from our diverse wanderings, for a season of expansion, culture, and new ideas.

I couldn’t ask for a better weekend, and one in which Countrymouse and Citymouse found the elusive perfect balance.

Pictures from Paradise

I've finally posted photo selects from VCCA. I put them in two places.

Places and Things is a public gallery of art shots I took around the VCCA grounds. My camera is my sketch book and I use my camera to try things out visually or to gather material for future work. These selects (culled from over a thousand shots) strike me as interesting images in their own right. Let me know if you would like any prints. (peter-at-culturecurrent-dot-com)

For privacy reasons, I put the People shots in a protected gallery. Let me know if you would like to see those and I'll send you the p.w.

Hope you enjoy!

Farewells and Welcomes

Alyson, Krazy Karl, Cynthia, and Don Pedro are a few of the folks I'll miss most. The good news is that they're New Yorkers and I'll still see them! In fact, I already have or soon shall...

Of course it was difficult to leave VCCA. Everyone kept asking if I would be back, and my answer was always the same, "I would love to come back!"

As much as it was wonderful there, it was also easy to realize how great my regular life is as well. After a very short and sleepy drive, I was back at Springtree for a long weekend of quiet time with my family in the country. Just resting, gardening, and enjoying time with old friends, Sebastian, Meredith and her folks. Plus a swim and a visit with my own parents.

While I saw a bear on my first full day in Virginia, on the last evening Sebastian spotted a bald eagle that swooped over our riverside picnic. We all got a nice long look and his apparition was a nice bookend for the experience and a signal of farewell.

When we got back to Brooklyn, after our favorite brunch place opened specifically for us (and before and dear friend and uber-neighbor Amelia served us a delicious "welcome home" dinner, Sebastian and I stopped by a Labor Day party at my studio building. It was a lovely party with kids and interesting people and good food. The perfect way to close a terrific summer that was full of symmetry and meaning.

I was not really surprised at all then when Cynthia from VCCA (pictured above in the blue shirt)walked into the yard and said hello. Her BF is close friends with Gerbo (the host) and they coincidentally decided to stop by. What a treat! I love those moments that seem intended to demonstrate that there is an order to things, that all things are connected by a million invisible fibers that could never be traced yet feel so obvious.

I'll see Krazy Karl, Don "Juan", Alyson, and a few others later this week.

Sad to have left, glad to be back.

Mad. Mike goes Post-Playa

Check out studio-mate Mad. Mike [Ross] in last week's Voice. He didn't want this blog to break the story six months ago, but now that it's in the nation's largest weekly, I suppose it's fair game. Read it, then come back here.

For the last few months, I've been pondering Burning Man's demise--er, I mean, evolution. Please forgive one quick digressive musing in that direction.

The Playa has always been a venue for artists to strut their stuff and to try out their most audacious schemes. But is there an imaginary line, where artists may not be making their work for the playa and for its visitors at, but rather using it as a show room for their ambitions with eyes fixed on a decided more commercial future? Of course intentionality is impossible to measure, but could a subtle shift be underway? And of course, intentionality, though unmeasurable, is of supreme importance at Black Rock City. It's a community that is united only in its huge (sometimes oversized) good intentions.

Don't get me wrong: Mike is not a cynical guy at all; quite the opposite. He might be the most earnest guy I know. But, should the moment come when the art on the Playa stops being for the Playa, do we lose something precious?

The Hardest Part

As the residency has progressed, time became compressed and like the gas at the center of a star, it burns with more intensity. Time for leaving approaches and everything I want to do before I leave needs to happen in just one day and that includes spending time with my fellow Fellows. We’ve been on parallel metaphorical journeys and those who have been travelling alongside have become dear friends. And soon we’ll say goodbye.

I am grateful for these last days because their value is so evident. Really, every day is important yet time is so easily lost in the quotidian flow. Times like this are wonderful for they are illuminated with an awareness of how fleeting they are.

My friend Bea (the one who shook Barack’s hand) said yesterday, "Hopefully you’ll take some of it home with you." I certainly will do that. What is more, many of these fellows live in New York and even Williamsburg. So I will certainly enjoy some of the camaraderie back home...along with all the good things waiting for me there...