Overheard in Philadelphia + Painted Walls

Dan and I were sitting at the light on 11th and Snyder, on our way to Home Depot, when we overheard this couple standing on the street corner. We noticed first that they were arguing, and so Dan nonchalantly rolled down his window so that we could hear what it was about. The woman was half-crying, and she said, Tell me what I physically did wrong! I could be mistaken, but I think she meant that he should tell her what she literally did wrong. Unless, of course, he was her dance teacher and they had just come from a recital at the Walnut Street Theater. This didn't seem to be the case. That's my grammar snobbery for the day.

Here is some street art for you:
And then this is window dressing from the American Apparel store in West Philadelphia. The "in" thing for youngsters now is to wear petticoat's on your head, apparently. It reminds me of being in high school and how we used to think it was funky and subversive to put giant bows in our hair ala Material Girl Madonna. 


Love this display of lit-up pumpkins. You can find it on 11th Street, near Tasker (I think). 

 

Spooky spider web window.

just liked this one because it looked like artwork authentically done by kids and not fake-authentically done by Hallmark

Skeleton.
 

And then this is a photo I took on my way to the Philadelphia Stories' writer's conference this weekend at Rosemont College:


The conference was great, as I got to be a speed date editor and pretend for an hour or two that I knew something about the publishing world in Philadelphia. I met some awesome people. I had a pretty low number of embarrassing situations, though one does stand out. I was talking to this woman I just met--a very funny and friendly editor of a new literary magazine. I liked her immediately because she was wearing a funky yellow dress and cowboy boots. Anyway, we were discussing writing teachers at Penn and she told me how she took a nonfiction class that she liked a lot; she said it wasn't like a typical undergrad class where you're writing alongside a bunch of 18 year old's. I said, Oh, yeah, that sucks. They all write essays about their grandmas dying. She hesitated for a second before saying, Oh, well, that's what my essay was about, but it turned out pretty good. And, unfortunately, she wasn't kidding. I'm an idiot.

But I can make it up to her (a little), by plugging the journal, which is called Apiary and can be found here. All donations to support the arts and the writing lives of artists young and old are welcome! Or just send me $20 and I'll get it to them somehow.

Comments

Popular Posts