The chicken has come home to roost.

Back from New York, New York. Aside from stalwartly bearing a bubbling cold sore on my lower lip and shatty-cold-rainy weather, I had a lovely time.

We saw lots of art, most importantly Matthew Barney and Larry Clark. Both artists serve up large heapings of food for thought. (sorry for horrible metaphor)

Flew home to lovely warm weather on Wednesday morning, collected Isaac from Colby's house, took a wonderful nap, had some sushi and went to see the Flaming Lips (entirely coindental to my own flaming lip) at the Warfield. My life is pretty good, I should remember.

It's time to leave work now, but I hope to right more about my impressions of the two artists, NYC and the prospect of moving there, the Flaming Lips and much more.