Lots of colorful and fun things to do
I think CocoWalk really had the artists on the streets idea down pat this last weekend. There was so much activity going on and there was so much to do that the energy was contageous.
This is what we need every weekend. Artists actually painting on the spot and crafts people selling their wares. The rickshaw guys added to the activites and so did the peformance artists, henna tattoo artists, cotton candy and musicians. This is what the visitors to the Grove like.
posted by Tom Falco at 12:01 PM
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3 Comments:
Of course. Jobie
Grape 2:37 P.M., Saw these pictures Sunday Feb 22, 2:30 P.M., went to Coco Walk to see the artist and the place was vacant of artist, came home and read more carefully and realized these pictures from last week end. Why not every week-end? What made the difference?
I appreciate living in a community where artists can thrive.
There are many benefits and rewards for living in the Grove. Sure, the economy's in the crapper, crowds, fueled by hope, spend sleepless nights outside queued up for a chance to apply for subsidized housing, and topics of discussion turn to subjects as mundane as the price of a cup of coffee. We may not technically be going through a depression, but it is sometimes tough to keep from getting depressed.
Today, after spending most of the day inside, doing various housebound related activities, I found the afternoon to be almost over. I was itching to spend some of the remaining daylight outdoors. I rolled the bike out the front door, locked the gate behind me, strapped my helmet on with a click, and slid on my helmet and gloves. In 3 minutes I was riding past Peacock Park. And though the eponymous peafowls were absent - and the lacrosse players were little substitute - it was a still a pleasure just to be a swiftly-passing spectator.
I road down Bayshore past the marina cum tv show set, the market where I've left with many an overpriced back of food, the docks from where I've set sail on many a Saturday morning, and through another park - this one named after a Kennedy who wasn't a President. With plenty of energy to burn off, I pedaled up Basyshore Drive, turned right onto Brickell Ave and passed Alice Wainwright Park. I turned right again onto Rickenbacker Causeway and over to the strip of land that sits west of Virginia Key. I'm sure it has a name but I've never known it.
Traffic on the west-bound side was slow in both lanes, and a police car was stopped on shoulder. In a scene that isn't seen in many places besides our fair city, a yellow Lamborghini sat in the grass perpendicular to the roadway. I road past, stopped on the road that dead-ends at the bridge, and had a drink from my water bottle.
Looking out over Biscayne Bay with the winter sun low on the horizon and the light bouncing off the water, I took it in contemplatively. I thought sure, 3 months from now I might be looking for new work. My porfolio has taken such a big hit it's really just a notepad at this point. The news shows are downers, and friends are among those who have been laid off.
Given all that negative influence, I thought, how could I take the scene I was a part of for granted? This wasn't Chicago - with it's bone chilling winter winds. This wasn't New York - clad in grey and black. This wasn't Los Angeles - shrouded in smoke and smog.
It was the middle of winter and I was sweating on a bicycle with salt water all around me. And it was free.
It was February. And this was South Florida.
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