Welding Poetry

New Orleans is a magical city. Everything you've heard about it is true. There's voodoo, public nudity and too much water. There's also art, and lots of it. When we went a few weeks ago, there was a late-night festival with all the city's galleries open, free booze flowing and people of all ages in the street, absorbing it all. It reminded me of the Liverpool Biennial - or at least, how it could be around Jamaica Street if the weather was clement.

Sculptor David Buckingham trawls Southern California gathering scrap metal. He uses bits of old buses, oil drums, tractors and cars for his work - which is big, bright and laugh-out-loud funny.

We saw his work at Jonathan Ferrera's gallery. Emboldened by gallons of free wine, we got chatting to him and told him how much we liked his work. I love it when artists talk to strangers - even when it's their opening night - and David talked to us so enthusiastically and openly, introducing us to all his friends. His work is based in typography (I think he worked in advertising before becoming a sculptor) it's brash and immediate and references pop culture. He has a series based on lines from films, song lyrics and Americana. I think it's saved from being obvious and cliched by its 'found' element. David doesn't repaint the metal, so everything has a patina which tells the story of its previous life. I'd happily have taken it all home for my walls. (Aside from the gun stuff, but hey - this is America).

Fly Flea

I am almost reluctant to share the location of my favourite NYC Flea Market - but as most of you delicious readers are in the Uk, I guess my secret will be safe.

The Meeker Avenue Flea Market nestles under the deeply dirty and rumbling Brooklyn Queens Expressway. It's two floors of heaven for those of us without much cash but with a love of things from the olden days. The ground floor is a little hit-and-miss (videos without cases, hairbrushes clogged up with hair, that kind of vibe) plus it smells of cat wee. Your best bet is to cover your nose/mouth with a scarf and head up the stairs, past the litter tray to the top. This place is crammed with mostly mid-century furniture and household items.

If you lust after 1950s chrome or early 1960s modernism, then this is the place to pick up chairs, tables, Tvs, lamps and toys. Plus, they have some cool old school (I mean stuff that used to be in the classroom) ephemera - like chalk boards and desks with lids that flip up. Now, I don't know what I would do with one of those, but I'd like it anyway. And did I mention the prices? This place is CHEAP.

Floating in Space

Spiritualized's Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space pretty much sound-tracked my final year at University. From the moment Kate Radley's dead-pan and dreamy announcement kicks off the album, I am soaring amongst the comets.. and so it was when we went to see Jason Pierce (and some people who might or might not be official members of Spiritualized) play the whole record from start to finish. Live. At the Radio City Music Hall.

A splurge on the most expensive tickets was the best credit card purchase I've ever made. We were so close to the stage, and the gospel choir, and the Spaceman himself. The sound was phenomenal. It felt like we had climbed inside the record. It's a heart-break album, but it's also a survival record - with Come Together's galvanizing power, and the indestructible swell of I Think I'm in Love.

I cried at least three times and had goose bumps throughout. Sometimes I wish I had the power to slow time right down. Then I could have enjoyed every note a little more.

Dearest Hen

The best family in the world (after my own of course) is the Mitfords. Having read everything I can get my hands on so far about these incredible women, I am so looking forward to 'Wait for Me!' the autobiography of Deborah, Duchess of Devonshire - the youngest of the clan.

Hearing her on Woman's Hour this week made me sigh with happiness - particularly her love of Elvis (she has Jailhouse Rock as her ringtone!). So many of our aristocrats have done nothing to recommend them except live high on the land - and other people's hard work - but the Mitfords (fascist tendencies not withstanding) have given us so much to enjoy. From Decca's investigative journalism in America in the 1960s, to Debo's radical farm shop at Chatsworth there is something inspirational about these sisters.

I imagine it's because Debo is still alive (thankfully) that no film has yet been made of their lives. When the time comes, it has the potential to be truly magical... but PLEASE don't let them cast Keira Knightly or let her anywhere near it - Hollywood, I am talking to you!

Losing the battle

If you've ever been appalled by a female friend telling you she's been to a strip-bar, then told you to 'lighten up, it's only fun' when you show your displeasure, this book will validate your unease.

In Female Chauvinist Pigs, Levy investigates why - after decades of women fighting against being classified as pieces of meat - some young women today are perfectly happy to be represented as such. These young girls enter wet t-shirt competitions (which should rightfully have died with Jim Davidson's career), take pole dancing lessons, go to topless bars on a works night out, and buy Playboy pencil cases for their pre-teen daughters. They say they're doing it because the battle for equality with men has been won - and they are free to represent their sexuality in any way they choose. The fact that they choose to do it in the same way Page 3 and Hugh Hefner have been doing for years seems lost on them. In this book Ariel Levy interviews young women from various different backgrounds to find out why they are happy to be valued for their breasts rather than their brains.

Reading the book, I felt so angry that women have allowed themselves (ourselves) to be manipulated into believing that public nudity is empowering and that anyone who refuses to laugh along is some kind of prude with no sense of humour. The women who fought so hard for equality must be wondering what went wrong. I am.

Crack Caramel

Sonic Youth are an amazing band, but I'm afraid their feedback-fest was over-shadowed for me this weekend by something far sweeter. My friends and I queued up to see Kim et al rock Prospect Park in Brooklyn for a FREE show. The waiting was worth it not just to have our ears expanded, but because of the best ice cream ever being sold from a cart inside the arena.

I've come to realize I love ice-cream more than any other sweet treat, and could eat one a day if funds allowed (n.b ice-cream - like everything else - is super expensive in NYC. sigh). Anyway, I've eaten plenty of gelato since arriving stateside, and Saturday's cone from Brooklyn's Ample Hills Creamery was just divine. I think the flavour was called something like "salty crack caramel"(I may have added the crack part). It had chunks of crunchy caramel or honeycomb in it, plus hunks of chocolate. It was so delicious, I failed to take a picture - hence the one above, from Ample Hills own web site!

(p.s In typical best/worst style, I managed to drip ice-cream on my favourite bag, which earlier had been shat on by a bird. Ah, them's the breaks).

Best Book Ever!

OK, so I make that claim regularly.. but this time, reader, you'd better believe me. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay is a Pulitzer Prize winning epic by American writer Michael Chabon (who might be best known in Britain for Wonder Boys). In my quest to only read American novels during my year in New York, I was excited to be able to pick this hefty tome up for just $1. In fact, only the previous week, a gaggle of shop assistants fell upon a customer who'd come in clutching the novel. I'd never seen that before. Now, I can see why they did it, as this is a Gotham adventure which has truly stayed with me.

It's the story of two cousins who meet one night in Brooklyn. Both harbour dreams of becoming artists, and through the nascent comic-book business, they become the creators of a character to rival Batman and Superman in their prime: The Escapist.

That's the back drop, but the real power of the story is far deeper than that. The two have complex emotional lives - which almost destroy them. The sweep of the novel is epic - across several decades and continents. It's ambitious, beautifully written, and not a word is wasted.