(though: why couldn't it be Porter Square. I love the Porter Square T stop).
Take the T to Porter Square. Say hello to the kinetic sculpture, which I can just remember seeing for the first time when the Red Line was built out from Harvard to Alewife in the early 1980's. (The internet tells me it's called Gift of the Wind, but I always referred to it as the horseshoe crabs.) Visit Porter Square Books, because they are an honest-to-God independent bookstore and need all the patronage they can get. And then you can walk a grand total of ten minutes to 382 Highland! Davis is not the distant outlier I used to think when all I did was take the 77 from Arlington to Cambridge. (Union Square, though, is still a hike.)
Also, I am so glad to have a friend who can distinguish Cyrus's gang by their robes. I'm carrying around the vicarious shine.
Alone of all the gangs at the summit, the Gramercy Riffs wear richly colored, intricately patterned silk robes. Later they will be seen in basic barefoot black, dojo-style, so I suspect strictly speaking they're a fancy-dress form of gi, but it's an unmistakable visual allusion. Robes are non-Greek. (The Warriors are shirtless, leather-vested. They display their colors, but also their bodies.) Just the way Cyrus' broad sleeves fall as he reaches out his arms and invites his ten thousand, "Can you dig it?" I saw his honor guard standing in their gold medallions and darkly brilliant colors and began to laugh, because I knew exactly who they were. A moment later Cyrus began to speak.
no subject
Take the T to Porter Square. Say hello to the kinetic sculpture, which I can just remember seeing for the first time when the Red Line was built out from Harvard to Alewife in the early 1980's. (The internet tells me it's called Gift of the Wind, but I always referred to it as the horseshoe crabs.) Visit Porter Square Books, because they are an honest-to-God independent bookstore and need all the patronage they can get. And then you can walk a grand total of ten minutes to 382 Highland! Davis is not the distant outlier I used to think when all I did was take the 77 from Arlington to Cambridge. (Union Square, though, is still a hike.)
Also, I am so glad to have a friend who can distinguish Cyrus's gang by their robes. I'm carrying around the vicarious shine.
Alone of all the gangs at the summit, the Gramercy Riffs wear richly colored, intricately patterned silk robes. Later they will be seen in basic barefoot black, dojo-style, so I suspect strictly speaking they're a fancy-dress form of gi, but it's an unmistakable visual allusion. Robes are non-Greek. (The Warriors are shirtless, leather-vested. They display their colors, but also their bodies.) Just the way Cyrus' broad sleeves fall as he reaches out his arms and invites his ten thousand, "Can you dig it?" I saw his honor guard standing in their gold medallions and darkly brilliant colors and began to laugh, because I knew exactly who they were. A moment later Cyrus began to speak.